Follow the Evidence
by kailynray
Summary: Dr. Grissom teaches at the Forensics Academy in San Francisco, where he meets Sara Sidle, a young assistant coroner. Their relationship develops as she becomes a CSI, and they follow the evidence in both their personal and professional lives. GSR.
1. Chapter 1

Follow the Evidence

Sidle:

Sara's pager went off before her alarm. Man she hated working days! She glanced at the clock, 5:24am. Couldn't the night shift have taken this one? Oh yeah, there was no night shift anymore – budget cuts. She climbed out of bed and headed for the shower. She wanted to clear her head before she called in. Posting another dead body before breakfast; what a way to earn a living!

Sara arrived at the scene a bit before 7:00am. The damp breeze still held a hint of winter, another cool San Francisco spring morning.

"He's all yours, Ms. Sidle," said the officer, "the detectives have collected their evidence."

"Thanks, officer," Sara answered mechanically as she knelt by the body, avoiding the pool of blood by his chest. She opened her equipment bag and pulled out a large thermometer. Pushing aside the victim's torn shirt, she gently thrust the thermometer into his abdomen, "Liver temperature puts the time of death from 5 to 7 hours ago…"

She noticed the multiple puncture wounds across his chest. "Crime of passion?" she thought to herself, "Someone really wanted to see him dead."

"He appears to have bled to death from stabbing wounds to the chest," Sara said, "We'll know more once we get him to the morgue and Dr. Collins autopsies him." She finished processing the body and filling out the paperwork. The body was bagged and loaded in the Coroner's van, and Sara accompanied it back to the morgue.

Grissom:

"Where is that medicine?" whispered Gil Grissom as he frantically searched his desk drawer. He found the prescription bottle took out two tablets and popped them into his mouth, swallowing without water. There had been too many double shifts, too many days in a row without a break. His head was pounding in rhythm with his heart. If he could just hold on a few more days, he could sleep through the weekend.

"I can't take much more of this," he confessed as he sat behind the desk in his darkened office. His hands held up his head, his fingers massaging his temples. The pain faded slightly as the migraine medicine began to take effect. A mental numbness crept into his consciousness. His phone rang.

"Grissom."

"Gil, this is Jim. We've got two dead bodies. Get Catherine and meet me at 721 Saguaro Drive."

"Is that Las Vegas or Henderson?" Grissom asked.

"Las Vegas suburb."

"Okay." Grissom hung up and then paged Catherine Willows to his office.

"God, Gil, you look awful!" Catherine observed from the office doorway. She looked from Grissom's bloodshot eyes to the dark circles underneath, "When was the last time you slept?"

"Hello to you too, Catherine. We've got two dead bodies. Jim's meeting us there. You drive."

Catherine drove them to an older well-manicured two story house in a quiet suburb.

"Gil, Catherine, over here." Jim Brass motioned for them to join him on the sidewalk in front of the house. The front yard and entryway were outlined with crime scene tape.

Jim briefed them, "Okay, here's what we have. Two victims, Josh and Sandy Miller, husband and wife. Husband killed in the den, wife in the living room. They appear to have been shot."

"Who called it in?" asked Catherine. Grissom seemed to be looking around vacantly at the yard and house.

"A Mr. and Mrs. Les Stanford: They were coming for dinner and noticed the front door was opened. When they saw the bodies and the blood they called 911. We have a tight timeline. Sandy Cooper called Mrs. Stanford at 4pm to confirm a late dinner. They arrived at 7:30pm. So our killer arrived sometime between 4 and 7 pm."

Catherine continued to take the lead asking "Has the house been cleared?"

"The responding officers said that they cleared the house, but there are a lot of places to hide in there. We'll be the first back in, so be careful."

"Any suspects?" Grissom asked, finally focusing on the discussion.

"None yet. Look. I don't feel good about this one, so be careful. The coroner is waiting for you to process the scene so he can remove the bodies for autopsy."

"Gil, which do you want, den or living room?" asked Catherine.

"Let's clear a path so that the coroner can process both bodies, then I'll take the perimeter while you continue in the house. When I'm finished outside, I'll help with whatever's left on the inside. Jim, are the Stanfords and the responding officers still here? We should take their shoe prints so that we can exclude them from the evidence."

"Gil, the officers are still here, I believe the Stanfords went down to the station to give their statements. I'll have someone in the lab take their shoe impressions."

"Okay, let's get started."

They pulled their kits from the CSI vehicle. Gil checked the prevailing light with a light meter then set the exposure on his camera and photographed the scene before proceeding up the sidewalk towards the house. He carefully examined the walkway and yard for evidence as he moved to the front door.

Catherine carried her kit over to the squad car. She took shoe impressions from the responding officers, photographed their soles, and obtained an ink print. She also checked for other evidence that they may have stepped in. She then joined Gil at the front door.

Gil had dusted for prints on and around the door and he had collected all that he found. They put on clean gloves and took out their cameras and flashlights. Gil opened the door, and they shined their flashlights at an angle across the entryway floor. A number of footprints appeared in the dust of the entryway floor. They retrieved the equipment to take electrostatic prints before going any further.

Throughout the preliminary investigation, Catherine had to keep her eye on Gil. He took the right steps, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere. She was concerned that it was just a matter of time before his exhaustion overwhelmed his judgment. He let her take the lead in creating a narrative and in directing their explorations. More than once she had to stop him from stepping on and destroying evidence. This was not like Gil. She should tell Jim what she had observed when they got back to the lab. She was worried about him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Sidle:

The naked male body lay on a cold metal table. Sara shivered, "at least he can't feel the chill in here…" she complained. She scrutinized the body more closely. The coroner would complete the actual autopsy, but it was her job to make sure that no evidence had been missed in the field. She took scrapings from under his fingernails. She checked his body carefully for any additional signs of trauma. At least he was fresh. Something about seeing maggots and larvae seething inside body cavities…. "Brrrr…" she shivered again.

She finished her examine, then cleaned and prepped the body for the coroner. She still hadn't had time for breakfast. It was a good thing that she didn't require much food. The guys were always teasing her about being too skinny. Actually, the guys teased her about just about everything. They thought it weird that a girl would want to examine and dissect dead bodies. She never tried to explain. She had her reasons, and someday she would have her answers.

Grissom:

A path had been cleared; the bodies had been examined, photographed, processed for evidence and removed. Gil had searched the perimeter, finding shoeprints, fingerprints, and side hand prints around the glass door at the rear entrance to the house. Catherine had processed the den and was working on the living room. The kitchen and dining room had been cleared. Hundreds of photos documented their work. Catherine had created a sketch of the interior crime scene and the layout of the first floor. Jim, Gil, and Catherine were the only ones left at the scene.

"I'm through with the kitchen and dining area, Catherine. How is it going in the den and living room?"

"I'm through here too. Should we check upstairs now, or wait for tomorrow's shift?"

"Let's get it over with now," replied Grissom, already half way up the stairs.

"Hey, wait for Jim and me," Catherine called after Gil, realizing that he was already at the top. She noticed that he was moving as if forcing himself through a daze of pain. He headed towards the first room on the second floor. Catherine quickly followed up the stairs, with Jim a half flight behind.

Catherine and Jim heard a struggle, a crash, and a cry of pain. Catherine reached the top and crossed the landing. She turned to crouch in the hallway on the other side of the door, weapon drawn. Gil reappeared in the doorway, a trickle of blood flowing from his forehead. There was an arm locked around his chest, and a knife angled along his throat.

Seeing Jim, the man holding the knife shouted, "Put your gun down or I'll slice him."

"Hold on there," pleaded Jim calmly, trying to buy some time, "I'm putting my gun down." Jim slowly lowered his gun to the floor of the landing and pushed it away with his foot. The man lowered the knife slightly, but kept Grissom in a tight grip.

Jim continued, "Let him go and we can talk about what you need, okay?"

"There's nothing to talk about. He's dead; what's going to bring him back?" his voice cracked as he spoke. Catherine could see his face, he looked very young, anguish and instability defined his eyes. She had the shot – he hadn't yet noticed her position – but she didn't want to take it.

The young man raised the knife to cut Grissom's throat. Catherine took the shot. Blood and brain matter drenched Grissom as the suspect collapsed to the floor on top of him.

"Gil!" Jim and Catherine cried out in unison.

The suspect's shoulders rose up and then flopped down and his head fell forward to the floor. Grissom's voice was muffled as he struggled with the heavy body, "I'm okay; just pull him off of me. I think I have a bit of blood evidence here."

"Hold still, while I get some photos of the body." Catherine holstered her weapon and pulled out her camera. She snapped a few pictures of the scene and then nodded to Jim. Red faced with anger, ignoring procedures, Jim rolled the gunman's body off of Grissom.

"Of all the lame-brained, careless things to do!" Brass shouted. "Gil, you know better than to walk into an unsecured room like that! One of us could have been killed. Now Catherine will have to face a shooting review board and …."

Brass noticed that Catherine was leaning against the wall staring blankly at the gunman's bloody face. Everyone was obviously too shaken to deal with this now.

Brass pulled out his phone and called for back up. In addition to the ambulance, the coroner, and a new CSI team, he requested a squad car.

"Gil, I'll talk to you back at the lab. You're off this case! No… no, you're suspended until further notice. After the paramedics check out that cut on your thick skull, an officer will escort you back to the lab to get your things."

For the second time that night, lights and sirens streamed down Saguaro Drive.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

Sidle:

"Good work, Sara," the coroner stated, "your preliminary report is very detailed. I can tell that you took your time and were thorough."

"Thank you, sir," said Sara, "Your guidelines have been clear and easy to follow."

"I think you are ready to complete an autopsy on your own," he smiled, "Would you like to take the lead on this one?"

Sara hesitated, "Are you sure? I've only been here a few months; I wouldn't want to mess up the case for the prosecution."

"You won't," he laughed, "You learn too quickly. Besides, the evidence seems to be fairly solid on this one."

Sara nodded and picked up a scalpel to make the first incision. She carefully cut a Y across his chest, and pulled back the skin. It was difficult to avoid the penetration wounds. She measured the depth and size of the wounds. If they found the murder weapon they would need to compare the shape of the blade to the shape of the wounds.

As the autopsy progressed she calmed down. She glanced across the table at the white-haired Dr. Collins. He had been working in forensic medicine more years than she had been alive, perhaps he could shed some light on her uncertainty about her career.

"Why did you decide to become a coroner?" she asked.

"I'm not sure… I've always needed to know how things worked. When I was young I always asked too many why questions."

Sara nodded as she worked. She had been that way too as a child. That was why she was always in trouble. Both at home and at school, she had to understand everything completely. Simple answers were not enough.

"Do you ever feel limited by being here in the lab?" she probed both the body and her colleague.

He clarified, "Do you mean have I ever wanted to be in the field as an investigator?"

She nodded, "yes," as she concentrated on dissecting the tissue around the victim's neck.

"I started out in the field; first as a police officer, then a detective. I went back to school to study medicine. I always wanted to know more about how they died. I never could understand why someone would choose to kill another person. So I focused on how, and let the detectives handle the questions about who and why. It is important to provide the courts with the irrefutable medical evidence regarding violent crimes and murders. It also provides some comfort for families to know how their loved ones died. It has been enough to keep me satisfied."

She worked in silence for awhile, thinking about the violence that she had witnessed and why it occurred. She needed to know more than how a person died. She needed to understand why anyone would kill someone they had sworn to love? And why would someone continue to live in torment knowing that they would eventually die at the hands of those they loved? Too many unanswered questions.

"I still need to know why," she said quietly.

Grissom:

After being dropped off at the CSI lab, Grissom grabbed his briefcase and drove home. He showered, took more migraine medicine, and went to bed. He slept.

He woke to the noise of someone pounding on the door. It was still dark, so he couldn't have had more than a couple of hours of sleep. At least his headache was gone.

He climbed out of bed and grabbed his bathrobe.

"Hold your horses, I'm coming!" he shouted as he climbed down the stairs and walked quickly to the front door. He opened the door to find a frustrated Jim Brass.

"What took you so long, Gil?" asked Jim.

"I was asleep, isn't that what you told me to do?" Gil answered.

Jim's eyebrows rose in disbelief, "That was two days ago! No one has heard from you since. We were worried!"

"Two days ago?" Gil was confused, "I went to sleep as soon as I got home."

"That confirms what I suspected. You're burned out Gil. If you keep pushing yourself…. I don't know what might happen, but it wouldn't be good."

"Jim, I'm fine, I just…"

"No, let me finish. You endangered the whole team the other night. You could have been killed. Catherine and I could have been hurt trying to save you. We were lucky that it turned out as it did."

Brass asked, "Can I come in? We need to talk."

Grissom opened the door wider and let Jim in. They walked over to the living room and sat down, Gil on the sofa and Jim on a chair.

"Gil, you have to start living in the real world, you can't bottle up the anger that comes with these crime scenes. You're like a worker ant, plodding along with no concern for his own well being, only the colony matters. But that is not true. You have to take care of yourself in order to be any good for the rest of us. Okay?" Jim finished his commentary, and then held up an envelope, "I received this letter last fall – it is a request for you to teach a seminar in evidence protocol at the Forensics Academy in San Francisco. When I received it, I told them you weren't available. Well, yesterday I called them back. They were still interested in having you come, so a told them you would be there."

"San Francisco? Jim are you serious?" Gil asked.

"Deadly serious, Gil. You need to get away from here and get your head on straight. I'm not risking the rest of my team for your stubbornness. You have two choices: You can take this offer and start planning a course in evidence protocol, or you can resign as lead CSI. It's your choice."

"Some choice. I'll take San Francisco. When do I leave?"

"You're suspended for the rest of this week for your reckless behavior at the crime scene. Then I'd suggest a week of vacation to prepare your curriculum and clear your mind. You should arrive in San Francisco at least a day early to learn your way around the city. The SFPD said they would make housing arrangements for you."

"Thanks Jim."

"For what?"

"For giving me a chance to straighten this out before anyone gets hurt."

"Tell that to the family of the guy Catherine had to kill. He was not the shooter; he had no gun shot residue on his hands. He had just lost his best friend to a freak accident and was out of his mind with grief. According to his mother, he had stopped by to talk with Mr. Miller, his school counselor, about his friend's death."

Gil stared at the floor, his head in his hands, as Jim let himself out the front door.

Sidle:

Sara Sidle and Dr. Collins finished sewing the body closed and stored it in the refrigerated drawer. They sterilized the surgical equipment and table, and then removed their protective gowns and gloves.

As they washed their hands, Dr. Collins continued their conversation, "Sara, have you considered transferring to Crime Scene Investigation? With your terrific mind and scientific background, I'm sure you'd be welcome."

"To be honest, I have been thinking about it. Unfortunately, with all of my academic degrees, I've never taken a course in forensics or evidence collection. Everything I know I've learned on the job," Sara answered.

"Let me check with my colleagues," Dr. Collins suggested, "I'm sure we can find a course at the upcoming Forensics Academy session that will answer some of your questions. I'll let you know what I find out."

"Thank you Dr. Collins, I would appreciate that," responded Sara gratefully.

"Your welcome, Sara, as long as you promise to keep working for me until you figure out what you are looking for…"

Sara smiled and agreed. Things were looking up. Maybe Dr. Collins could help her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

San Francisco

Grissom:

Gil Grissom arrived in San Francisco the day before the Forensics Academy began. For the previous two weeks he had been haunted by the face of the young man that died because of his slipshod work. Determined to make up for it, he prepared more carefully than usual for the seminar. "Jim knows how much I dislike public speaking," he thought to himself, "but maybe this time will be different. Maybe they can learn from my mistakes, and I can convince them to fight for the truth through meticulous forensics. Yet, how do I make them understand that they must allow the evidence to speak for the victims? Especially in only five days…." He reviewed case after case, gathered materials to take the place of evidence samples, and researched relevant literature. He rehearsed the stories of his cases in front of a mirror. He was as prepared as he could be, now if his hands would just stop shaking.

Sidle:

Sara was excited to be attending the Forensics Academy seminar. She had found a course in evidence protocol and crime scene investigation. It would be just an introduction, but she knew it was the first step to finding her future. The course was going to be taught by an older forensic entomologist, who had a reputation for being dry as bones. Bugs and boring! Ha, just her luck! If it gave her the answers that she was looking for, it would be well worth it. Dr. Collins had graciously moved her to the swing shift for the week. He had swapped shifts as well, so they would be able to talk about her experiences. She supposed he was helping her like a loving father would, if she had had a loving father. Perhaps more like a mentor. Yes, he extended his help to her as a mentor.

Grissom:

The morning had finally arrived. Grissom showered and dressed in his black suit and gray shirt. No tie. That would make it too hard to breathe. He arrived to find the auditorium set up with a projector and a wireless microphone. He attached his laptop to the projector and tested the connection.

Conference attendees began to file into the room. "Breathe, Gil, breathe!" he reminded himself. No matter how many seminars he taught around the country, he still found these first few moments unnerving. He brought up the picture of a young girl, killed by her neighbor, a sexual predator thought to be a friend of the family. This picture showed a beautiful innocent 8 year old with long brown hair and big smiling brown eyes. Later photos would reveal the atrocities that had caused her death. He cleared his throat and took a drink of water.

"If you could all find your seats, it is time to begin," he started tentatively. He waited a few moments for the audience to quiet.

"I'm Dr. Gilbert Grissom. I'm a forensic entomologist, and I work for the Las Vegas Police Department's Criminalistics Unit. I have been asked to address the issue of evidence protocol as it relates to crime scene investigation." He took another drink of water and began his story.

"This is a picture of an eight year old girl who we will call Molly. Unfortunately, when I first met Molly, she did not look like this anymore. We received the call a little after midnight one summer night a few years ago."

As he spoke, he noticed a tall brunette enter the room. She glanced around; looking for an empty seat, then began to walk down the center aisle towards the front. She was slender and walked briskly, her long wavy hair gathered in a pony tail.

Grissom continued, "The police had been searching for a missing child when they discovered the body of a young girl. We were called in to investigate, and if possible, to identify her and find her killer."

The brunette glanced up as she neared the front row. Her brown eyes connected with his blue and his mind stumbled. "Wow!" he thought. She smiled. All he could think about were the depth of her eyes and her inquisitive smile. He watched as she found a seat directly in front of him and sat down. She mouthed the word, "Sorry." The silence extended. A cough off to the right brought him back to the present. He took another drink of water while he tried to remember his place.

"Excuse me," he started again, "Let's see…. We arrived at the scene, an empty lot on the edge of town, about an hour later." He advanced the computer image and heard a series of gasps from the room.

"This is how Molly looked when I met her." He looked up at the image behind him. It showed her body twisted and bloody; her clothes torn off and cast aside in a heap; her face and body cut, bruised and swollen beyond recognition.

"When you see a young victim like this, your first response is always rage. How could anyone do this to an innocent child! But as a crime scene investigator, you have to push those feelings aside. You have to remain completely focused and objective."

"How?" came a quiet voice from the audience.

"What was that?" he asked.

"How can you do that? How can you set aside your anger at the murderer, your compassion for the victim?" asked the young, beautiful brunette in the front row.

"It's not easy, but you have to train yourself, otherwise you won't be able to hear the victim's words."

"The victim's words? But they're dead, how can they speak?" asked the brunette.

"Um, excuse me, but what is your name miss?" Grissom asked.

"Sara Sidle."

"Ms. Sidle, the victim speaks to us through the evidence. The evidence tells the story of what happened to them," he spoke directly into her eyes.

"There are as many stories of the crime as there are witnesses, if there are any witnesses. Every person views reality from a different perspective, and that's if we are trying to tell the truth. There is only one witness that never lies – the evidence. It may take time to hear its voice, but it will always speak for the victim, and it will tell you what really happened."

Grissom was drawn back into Sara's eyes as he spoke. She nodded her understanding of his message. He sensed that she was identifying with him… her brown eyes spoke of both pain and curiosity; he wanted to know more of _her_ story…. He didn't notice the silence that again filled the auditorium.

"Dr. Grissom? Um, excuse me, sir?" a young male voice interrupted Grissom's reverie.

"Yes?" Grissom broke the eye contact.

"What if the evidence has been manipulated by the suspect or contaminated by time or circumstances? Doesn't that cause the evidence to lie?" asked the young man.

"Good question, but no, it usually doesn't. If the evidence has been altered you will find contradictions. So you continue to look deeper. Eventually, you should be able to unravel what has been altered in the original evidence. It's a matter of knowing more about the evidence – of thinking harder, faster and more clearly than the criminal."

Sara following the discussion, added, "So it's a mind game?"

"In some ways, yes. The criminals thinks they can outsmart the investigators. If they didn't believe this, they wouldn't commit the crime. It is our job to make sure it isn't the case," he resisted the urge to look into her eyes again.

"Now, let's look at the specific evidence in this case and the procedures that were used to find the murderer and obtain a conviction."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

Sidle:

The morning had finally arrived. Sara showered and dressed in her favorite blouse and pant suit. Sara was running late as she headed to the Forensic Academy seminar. Parking was difficult and she wasn't sure where to find the auditorium. The lecture had already started when she arrived. She glanced around the room, but the only available seat seemed to be in the front row, directly in front of the speaker. She signed quietly. "Well, so much for being inconspicuous," she thought. She walked quickly down the center aisle. Nearing the front, she looked up at the speaker, almost tripping as she fell into the most amazing blue eyes that she had ever seen. "So _this_ is the boring old bugman?" she thought, "Those bugs are sure lucky!"

She found her way to her seat and silently said, "Sorry," to the speaker, apologizing for the interruption. As he continued introducing the case of the young girl, she studied him. He was in his late thirties or early forties, short curly black hair with a hint of early grey, well trimmed beard, clean cut look – handsome. When he smiled at her, she couldn't help smiling back. He was at least as tall as she was and had broad shoulders, narrow hips. He looked like he could have played football when he was younger.

The image on the screen changed to a horrifying picture of the tangled body of a little girl. Sara's stomach lurched. She fought back memories and struggled to maintain her composure. Dr. Grissom acknowledged the repulsive nature of the scene and then told them they had to set aside their emotions. The word "how?" slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

"What was that?" he said, hearing her soft word.

As they talked, and he explained what he meant, she felt like he was speaking straight into her heart. His eyes and smile bore right through her defenses, and she felt like she could trust him. If only she could tell him her story…

Throughout the morning she felt like he was talking directly to her. He talked of procedures, and of how to preserve and protect the evidence – the voice of the victim. The hours sped by and she found that she didn't want them to end.

At the end of the lecture, she waited for the crowd to clear and then walked onto the stage. Her mind was filled with a million questions. She found herself responding to him even more as she talked with him one on one. He patiently answered her questions, sometimes with questions of his own. He drew out her own instinctive understanding of the investigative process and somehow made her feel like she already knew the answers. She wanted more time with this intriguing man. When he finally excused himself, she realized it was mid-afternoon and she was late for work!

Grissom:

Grissom used the afternoon to review for the following day. He was presenting a case that had puzzled them all until they had realized it had been just an unfortunate accident. The crime scene had been blood soaked. Multiple victims, body parts severed and broken. He wanted them to understand that you couldn't always trust your instincts in interpreting a scene – you had to look at the evidence!

While he worked, he was distracted by a pair of beautiful brown eyes. He heard her voice asking question after question, probing the theories of crime scene investigations. Who was she? Why was she attending this conference? She was obviously far beyond the rest of the audience in her understanding of the process. Her mind captured his arguments so quickly. For once he didn't feel like he had to talk down to a student. He was exchanging ideas with an intellectual equal, one who not only accepted him for who he was but enjoyed the discussion. He smiled as he lost himself once again in the memory of her eyes and her beauty.

Sidle:

Sara apologized to Dr. Collins for being late. She explained that she had stayed after the lecture to ask questions of the speaker. Her eyes danced as she spoke of Dr. Grissom and the theories that he shared. Fortunately, it was a quiet night.

"So Sara, what do you think of crime scene investigation?" asked Dr. Collins.

Sara spoke quickly, her excitement overflowing, "It's amazing. The evidence is the voice of the victim and must be protected. The investigators job is to keep seeking until they can hear that voice clearly."

He smiled at her enthusiasm, "So, should I talk to the CSI Department supervisor on your behalf?"

"Not yet," she answered, "I want to experience the entire week before I make a decision. I'm doing a lot of research as well. It seems that true crime scene investigation is a new field in law enforcement – there's not much agreement on the process."

"That's true, but Dr. Grissom is one of the pioneers. He's at the top of his field. His use of entomological evidence has been revolutionary. You should have a good background in the basic theory by the end of the week."

"My mind is spinning," she confessed, "He covered so much so quickly. I can't believe anyone finds him boring. I have never felt so involved with any learning experience, even at Harvard and Berkeley."

"Dr. Grissom can speak over a lot of people's heads. He is brilliant intellectually, but some find his social skills lacking. I'm glad you did not find this to be the case. I thought you'd be able to keep up."

They only had one autopsy during the shift, and it proved to be a natural death. When they had finished cleaning the room, Dr. Collins said, "Why don't you head home early, you've had a long day."

"Thanks! I could really use something to eat and some sleep," Sara smiled, "I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be on time."

"I'll see you when you get here, Sara. I think this may be a life changing week for you," he finished with a sincere, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Sara showered in the locker room and changed back into her street clothes. She then headed toward home.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

Grissom:

Grissom could not sleep. He had gone to bed early hoping to be more clear-headed in the morning. Unfortunately, his mind kept replaying the day. He was not used to sleeping at night. He had worked night shift for so many years. Night was the time to be active and alert. He got up and dressed. He asked the front desk clerk for a restaurant that would still be open. He recommended a bar a few miles away – the only place open after midnight in the neighborhood. The clerk gave Grissom directions. Grissom climbed in his rental car and he headed out for a late night snack and drink. Maybe that would help him sleep.

When he arrived at Shannon's Bar and Grill, he found a booth in a back corner. He ordered a beer and a sandwich. He looked around the room. There weren't very many people there. Most of them appeared to be police officers just off duty. They weren't in uniform, but he had spent enough years working in the department to recognize the look. There were also a few people wearing medical scrubs. Perhaps this was the only place open this late at night.

There was a dance floor, where a few couples were swaying to the soft music being played by the DJ. His food arrived, and he ate as he continued to observe the patrons. In his mind he played a game that he often used to pass time when alone in public. Like Sherlock Holmes, he looked for clues and created stories to explain the lives of those in the room around him. He wondered how close he came to the truth.

Sidle:

Sara left work at 11:30 pm. She drove back to her apartment and parked in front of her building. She needed a snack and maybe a drink so she walked the few blocks to a bar frequented by her and her police colleagues. She didn't usually eat this late, but it had been a long day. As she walked through the door, she saw a couple of female police officers that she knew casually. They saw her and waved her over to join them.

"Hey Sara, what are you doing out so late?" asked rookie Mary Jennings.

"I switched shifts so that I could attend an academy seminar. I'm just getting off now," Sara replied.

"Which session did you go to?" asked Leanne Perkins.

"Evidence protocol with Dr. Grissom."

"Ohhh, we were at the same session. I loved his curly hair; I just wanted to run my hands through it. How about you, Mary?" commented Leanne impertinently.

"I was impressed by the passion with which he taught, I had heard that he was dull," commented Mary, "Sara, what did you think?"

"I agree Mary, he was anything but dull. I kept getting lost his brilliant blue eyes…" said Sara without thinking.

Leanne smiled, "Ohhh Sara! Were you the one in the front row that he kept looking at?"

"Lucky you, all that attention…" laughed Mary.

"Speaking of Dr. Grissom, isn't that him in the corner booth?" asked Leanne.

Grissom:

Grissom had almost finished his beer, when he was distracted by laughter across the room. Someone had joined the two female police officers – was that Sara? He glanced at the dancing couples.

"It wouldn't hurt to ask," he thought. "I'm not going to be able to think clearly until I know more about her," he confessed to himself. He had never felt so drawn to anyone in his life. Usually he was reluctant to dance in public, but as the band began another tune, he left his seat without thinking and walked across the room towards Sara.

Sidle:

"Look Sara, he's coming this way. I bet he's going to ask you to dance!" said Mary.

Sara replied sarcastically. "Oh sure he is,"

"No, really," said Leanne, "Look."

Sara looked up nervously, thinking they were teasing her again and her eyes found his. By the time he arrived, the rest of the bar and its patrons had disappeared for both of them.

"Hi, Sara, would you like to dance?" he asked.

Sara smiled and slid out of the booth, "I'd like that Dr. Grissom."

"Gil," he said.

"What?"

"My name is Gilbert, please call me Gil."

They walked to the dance floor and Gil took Sara in his arms and they began dancing. At first they danced in silence, each too aware of the other's body to trust themselves to speak. He noticed the softness of her skin, her scent, the subtle curves of her slender body, the dark brown of her eyes. They gazed into each others eyes, lost in their depths. Nearly as tall as he was, her hair brushed his face as he drew her close; he smelled the fresh aroma of her shampoo. His fingers gently stroked her lower back, unaware of the effect that it was having on her.

She sensed his cologne, the physical strength of his body hidden beneath his scientist façade. She felt the muscles of his arms and chest through his shirt as their bodies move closer. The stoking of his fingers sent electric shocks deep within her body. She moved her arms around his neck, weaving her fingers into his short curly hair. She studied his face, his tempting lips, his broad cheek bones, then back to his rich almost cobalt blue eyes. There was a short scar, still healing, across his left temple. She leaned into him, nestling her face against the smooth skin of his neck. He pulled her closer, wrapping both arms around her, his hands on her back.

He brushed his lips across her ear, "Sara," he whispered, "you're intoxicating." Sara, overwhelmed by the sensations pulsing through her, pulled back to look into his eyes and joked, "Does that mean you're DUI, Gil?" He looked puzzled.

"Dancing Under the Influence…" she smiled.

He laughed softly and drew her back into his embrace. They continued to dance in silence.

The DJ noticed them on the dance floor. They had danced through three songs without stopping, moving closer and closer to each other. He put on another love song, happy to help their romance along. Mary and Leanne watched with smiles on their faces. The guys tormented Sara, accusing her of being a lesbian, just because she wouldn't go out with them. If they could only see her now!

Gil brushed his lips across Sara's neck, tasting the softness, the electricity.

"Hmmm," she responded.

The DJ chose a more up-tempo piece for the rest of the crowd, and Sara and Gil were jolted from their deserted island. They return to Gil's table hand in hand. Sara ordered a sandwich and a beer, Gil ordered another beer. They talked until the bartender announced that it was closing time.

"Let me drive you home," Gil offered.

Sara protested, "I only live a few blocks from here."

"That's okay; it will be safer to drive. Please…" he offered again.

The brisk San Francisco night air woke them as they walked to his rental car. He drove the few blocks to her apartment. Grissom wanted to kiss her goodnight, but he didn't think it would be appropriate. He drove back to his hotel, thinking about her, and how it felt to have her in his arms. When he arrived in his room, he was too stirred up to sleep. He retrieved his volume of Shakespeare from his luggage. He finally fell asleep with the light on and the book still in his hands….


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

When Grissom's alarm went off he jumped, knocking his book to the floor. He was exhausted. "Ohh," he groaned, "How am I going to get through this today?" Then he remembered that Sara would be there. He showered, dressed and made sure everything he needed was in his briefcase.

The auditorium was already filling when he arrived. He walked up the stairs to the stage, set-up his laptop and placed his notes on the lectern. Glancing along the front row he saw that Sara had not yet arrived. He thought he recognized the women that she had been sitting with at the bar. They seemed to be saving a seat. Maybe being on time wasn't one of Sara's strengths. He took a sip of water and began the lecture.

"It's time to begin, please find a seat quickly," he started. He waited a few moments for everyone to be seated. He checked the front row again and was rewarded with Sara's warm smile. She looked tired, but eager. He smiled back at her. He tapped the mouse pad on his laptop and an image appeared.

"What happened here? Any ideas?" he asked the audience. They were getting used to his gruesome pictures, but several still ran out of the room grabbing their stomachs. The picture showed a machine shop or assembly plant, it was hard to tell. Blood splattered the walls and pooled on the floor. There seemed to be three bodies, but the missing and extra limbs strewn about the room made it difficult to tell.

"Cult killing?"

"Mass murdered with a machete or a chain saw?"

"Good suggestions," he nodded to both participants.

"We can all agree that this scene is grisly," Dr. Grissom continued, "Three victims. Each with massive sharp edged, penetrating traumas: two cut from shoulder to hip and missing their lower arms; the third lost both an arm and a leg. When we first arrived, we thought we had a major player on our hands – either a cult or a psychopath."

"What did the evidence say?" asked Sara.

Grissom smiled, she always seemed to understand the point that he was attempting to make. "What _did_ the evidence say? Let's start at the beginning and look at the process we followed to determine what really took place," he continued lecturing. They looked at the evidence, piece by piece, as the CSIs had in their original investigation. It was a puzzling case and it took half the morning to finish analyzing it.

"So what can we conclude from this?" he asked.

"That things aren't always what they seem?" suggested a voice from the audience.

"Yes, you cannot always trust your first impressions; you have to wait for the evidence to reveal what truly happened at the scene. In this case, it was a horrible accident, not a crime – no one to blame, except perhaps those who failed to keep the equipment maintained."

Grissom glanced at his watch, "Let's take a 15 minute break. We'll start again at 10:45." He walked to the front of the stage and hopped down onto the main floor level. He tried to move towards Sara's seat, but several people stopped him with questions. She saw him, and seeing his predicament, she worked her way to him.

"Excuse us," he told the other conference attendees as he placed his hand on Sara's arm and guided her to the side of the auditorium.

He smiled into her eyes as he greeted her, "It's good to see you again, Sara."

"Likewise, Gil," she smiled back.

"I hope you got enough sleep," he began and then mentally kicked himself.

Sara's smile broadened, "Actually, no, someone kept me up half the night talking." And the rest of the night by invading my dreams, she added to herself.

"Um, sorry about that. Some of my friends say I'm better with bugs than people, you'll have to be patient with me," he explained awkwardly.

"I hadn't noticed," Sara said. Grissom's eyebrows rose as he tried to figure out if she was making fun of him, or serious. Sara saw his confusion and added, "I've enjoyed all of our conversations. I don't know how you relate to bugs, but you've been wonderful with me…" Now it was Sara's turn to kick herself, "That was too forward," she thought.

"Would you like to meet for dinner tonight?" Grissom asked, realizing he was running out of time before the end of the break.

Sara frowned, "I would love to, but unfortunately I have to work. I don't get off until midnight."

"Ahh, so that is why you had dinner so late last night," he commented.

Sara smiled again, "Well, that and the fact that some mysterious gentleman held me captive on the dance floor…"

Grissom grinned.

"I thought that the police department arranged for professional development leave for those officers and detectives who were attending this academy?" Grissom asked.

Sara nodded, "They did, but I am not a police officer…"

Someone tapped Dr. Grissom on the shoulder. "Excuse me, sir, but it is time to begin again."

"Thank you, I'll start again in a minute," Grissom responded.

"You're not? I thought everyone here worked in law enforcement…"

Sara shrugged and smiled, "We can talk later. I'm sure we can work out a time." Grissom nodded in agreement and returned to the stage.

He called the group back to order, and began the second scenario of the day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

They were nearing the end of the morning

They were nearing the end of the morning. Grissom wanted to make sure they understood his premise of letting the evidence tell its own tale – that they should not force the evidence to fit their own conjecture.

"We've looked at two cases today. Can anyone tell me what they have had in common?" Grissom asked.

"They both made me throw up!" shouted a man in the back row. Everyone laughed, including Grissom.

"What else?" he asked again.

He noticed movement in the front row. Sara was putting her notes away and quickly preparing to leave. He tried to stay focused on the class, but he couldn't help watching her walk out of the room.

"Um, what … they both… I mean, how were they alike?" Grissom fumbled the words.

"They both started out looking like crimes, but ended up being accidents," answered someone from the middle of the room.

"Yes, um… good," responded Grissom, "And how were they finally, uhh, resolved?"

"Through looking at the evidence," the same voice answered.

Grissom looked at his notes, "Yes, the evidence…always follow the evidence…" his voice trailed off.

He put his laptop and his notes in his briefcase and left the stage. He was out the door in seconds. Everyone looked around confused. Wasn't there another half hour scheduled? What had happened? They shrugged and filed out.

Sidle:

Sara arrived at the morgue locker room and changed into her work clothes and protective surgical gown. She then sought out Dr. Collins. He was in the exam room completing an autopsy.

"Oh Sara, there you are. Sorry to interrupt your class, but we've had a triple homicide, as well as a body dump outside Sausalito. We needed all the hands we could find to process the bodies," Dr. Collins explained.

He looked up at her and saw the dark circles under her eyes, "I thought you went home early last night. What happened?"

Sara confessed, "Um, I ran into someone when I stopped for dinner. We ended up talking until the bar closed."

"Hmmm… I hope the conversation was worth the exhaustion," he frowned, "I need you to prep the body from the body dump."

Sara nodded saying quietly, "It was." It was definitely worth it, she thought as she took the chart that he indicated. She left the room and went to work.

A female body was stretched out on the metal exam table. Dirt and blood still covered the victim's skin. Sara began by looking for additional evidence.

"So what is your story?" she asked the corpse, "What can you tell me about what happened to you?" She went through the routine that she had been taught, scraping under the fingernails, looking carefully at all the surfaces of the body and in the body cavities. As she examined the victim's mouth she noticed small black spots. Looking deeper into the mouth she noticed movement – wriggly white squirming movements. Bugs. Or at least their offspring. She hated bugs, but she knew they had to be documented with care. She set-up her mini-tripod and camera over the victim's mouth, bracing the mouth open to create the best possible image. She snapped a few close-ups, and noted the time in her log. She set up a timer before going back to the morgue to notify Dr. Collins of her discovery.

"Dr. Collins, did the detectives who retrieved the body comment on any bug activity?" Sara asked.

Dr. Collins looked up from the autopsy table, "No Sara, they didn't comment on anything, did you find signs of insects?"

"Yes, I think there are maggots in the mouth," she answered.

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can to look at it. Did you take some photos?"

"Yes, I took photos and set a timer for taking more at regular intervals. Should I take some samples as well?"

Dr. Collins affirmed, "You're handling everything just as I would. Please take some samples and label them. I'll be there soon to help you identify them. You should request any clothing or other items that were on the victim as well."

"Okay, thanks." Sara went back to the examine room and continued looking for additional clues.

Meanwhile, Dr. Collins, realizing that he had too much to do and too little knowledge of insect life cycles, decided to call in a specialist.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

Grissom:

Grissom returned to his hotel room feeling defeated. He knew Sara's departure had nothing to do with him, yet it felt like he'd been rejected. His mind couldn't convince his heart. To make matters worse, he hadn't arranged a time to see her later.

"Follow the evidence," he mumbled repeatedly to himself, "Follow the evidence…" His mind listed the clues, "Fixation on her eyes, her smile, quickening pulse and breathing when she's near, memorizing and replaying our conversations, dwelling on her expressions, on the electricity of her touches, inability to concentrate, limited appetite, dreams…."

"Well Jim," he thought, "You'd be proud of me – I've completely lost control of my emotions…"

He had followed the evidence and it had led him to one incontrovertible truth. He was falling in love. And in just three days he had to return to Las Vegas.

The hotel phone rang.

"Grissom."

He listened and then replied, "Yes, I'd be glad to help." He wrote down an address and then concluded, "I'll be there as soon as I can."

He wiped his eyes and walked to the bathroom to splash water on his face. Maybe this was what he needed a distraction from his…distraction.

Sidle:

Sara took a brief break from bug monitoring to check her work mailbox. In it she found a hand written note which read:

_Sara,_

_We thought you should know what happened after you left class today. Dr. Grissom seemed to age right in front of our eyes. His shoulders dropped, his face turned ashen, he looked confused, and it felt like the life had been drained out of the room. He couldn't keep track of his thoughts. He stumbled along for a few minutes then left abruptly without a word of explanation to anyone. It was weird. Everyone was baffled. Mary and I resisted the temptation to tell them why your unexpected departure caused Dr. Grissom to fall apart…_

_Your friend, Leanne_

"Oh Sara, there you are," said Dr. Collins interrupting her reading, "I've called in another investigator to help with our Jane Doe. He should be here any minute. Would you mind meeting us in the morgue? I think you should be the one to brief him on our findings so far."

Sara sensed the unspoken compliment, "I'd be glad too." She glanced at the note again and smiled.

"Well Gil, I miss you too," she thought to herself. She folded the note, placed it in her pocket, and returned to the exam room in the morgue.

Dr. Collins stopped at the reception desk to wait for his guest.

Sara found waiting for bugs to develop almost as interesting as watching grass grow or dust accumulate. She was leaning against the table, almost dozing, daydreaming about being in Gil's arms again, when she heard the door open behind her.

"My assistant is the one who discovered the bug evidence. She has been monitoring it and recording any changes while we waited for you to arrive. I would prefer for her to brief you on the case," explained Dr. Collins as they walked through the door.

Sara turned to greet them and saw two vivid blue eyes looking in her direction.

"Sara?" Grissom said, surprised.

"Gil?"

"What are you doing here?" they asked simultaneously.

Sara's mind made the quick leap of understanding; he was _the_ bug specialist after all.

"You two know each other?" asked Dr. Collins, then realizing, "Oh, of course, the seminar. It's been a long day; I forgot that you would have met there. Well, good. Then working together shouldn't be a problem."

There was a knock on the door and a man in a blue surgical gown motioned Dr. Collins over. Replaying the recent greeting, Dr. Collins recalled that Sara had addressed Grissom by his first name – with a great deal of emotion. He would have to keep an eye on her. While he talked to his colleague about another case, he turned so that he could observe their interactions.

Grissom walked to Sara's side and placed his hand on her waist. Sara turned to face him, allowing his hand to caress her back as she moved. She placed her hand on his upper arm.

"You never mentioned that you were working here," Grissom began, "Is this why you had to leave early today?

Sara nodded, "Yes, they called me in to handle this case."

"Now I see why you're at the conference."

"Why?" she asked, curious to hear his thoughts.

"You're not satisfied with autopsies. You want to do more to solve the crimes. You want to understand how the criminal mind works so that you can outwit them and put them in prison. Am I close?"

Sara smiled, "Very. How did you put that together?"

Grissom returned her smile, "Easy. I started out as a coroner as well. I was fascinated by figuring out how people had died. But eventually I realized it was not enough. That's when I became a forensic entomologist and an investigator."

Dr. Collins, still standing by the door, observed their body language. They were standing well within the other's personal space, touching. They were not just talking, they were staring directly into each other's eyes – and there was no mistaking that look. He may have a problem after all.

He cleared his throat, causing them to turn to face him. He noted that they did not separate and were still standing side by side. He considered Sara's earlier comment about being up late the night before and decided to set a bit of a trap.

"Dr. Grissom, it seems that you've been keeping my assistant up all night, um, talking." Dr. Collins speculated.

Grissom, confused, looked quickly at Sara for confirmation. Had she told about their relatively innocent encounter the night before? It didn't seem likely, yet how else would her supervisor know? She shrugged, shaking her head, no, indicating he needed to answer carefully. "We did run into each other at Shannon's Bar and Grill. We talked for awhile, I don't recall the exact hour when we left," he offered.

Dr. Collins observed the quick non-verbal exchange; perhaps he should be happy for them.

"No matter," said Dr. Collins, "I trust that there is nothing that will interfere with this case?"

Both Grissom and Sara shook their heads, "No."

"Good, then let's get to work. Sara, please tell us about your discovery."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

They worked together into the night

They worked together into the night. Dr. Collins stayed for a half hour or so, and then returned to his other cases. Initially, they focused on the evidence. Grissom used the case to teach Sara about forensic entomology. They collected specimens and noted their stage of development. Grissom explained the need to track their life cycle of what appeared to be a blow fly in order to determine the time of death, or at least the time the body was disposed of in the woods. They measured the length of several maggots and then stored them in ethyl alcohol. They took another sample of maggots and placed them in a special sealed environment where they could grow to maturity under observation. Once they had the basic time table, they could mathematically adjust it for the outside temperature and conditions over the preceding days.

They discovered another insect as well, attached behind the left knee. Grissom was not familiar with this particular species, though it resembled a tick. Since there was only one, they documented its size and weight. They took close up photographs of it from many angles, drew sketches, and noted the characteristics of the creature. They then placed it in another safe environment appropriate for its development.

While Grissom finished documenting and preserving the bug evidence, Sara focused on finishing with the rest of the victim's body. She found two brown hairs, about 3 to 4 inches long, caught in a torn fingernail. One of the hairs seemed to have some root material. She placed it in a sterile envelope, labeled it, and marked it for DNA testing. She continued her close examination of the body, bagging anything that looked promising.

"Are you from San Francisco?" asked Gil.

Sara was quiet for a moment and then answered, "Yes, I grew up about an hour north of here outside Tomales Bay State Park. My parents ran a Bed and Breakfast in Inverness."

"I grew up in the city – south of Los Angeles. We lived a few blocks from the beach – Marina del Rey. My dad was a Professor of Botany," Gil shared in return.

Sara went on to tell how she developed her love of animals and of the outdoors through playing in the park as a child. She did not mention why she had so much time alone for exploration…. Gil talked of growing up on the university campus, haunting the libraries and laboratories. He did not mention his father's early death, or his mother's deafness. There were some things that were not meant to be discussed over a dead and decaying body.

By 10:00pm, Sara was fighting off yet another yawn. The lack of sleep the night before had caught up with her.

"Do you think Dr. Collins would give you the rest of the night off Sara? You came in early – you should go home and get some rest."

Sara didn't want to leave him. She had spent almost the entire day in his presence, and she still had not had enough.

"I could ask," she commented reluctantly, "but I'd really rather stay."

"Please, ask, I'd hate to feel responsible if you have an accident driving home."

She agreed to ask. Dr. Collins said he would release her, if Grissom could spare her assistance. Dr. Collins walked with her back to the exam room to check with Grissom about the progress of the case. They talked about what they had discovered so far, and where they needed to go next. They agreed it would be okay for Sara to leave – Grissom was planning to leave soon as well. As Sara was leaving she offered Grissom her hand to shake, "It has been wonderful working with you Dr. Grissom," she began in a formal tone, "I look forward to learning more from you tomorrow in class."

Sara let go of his hand and headed out the door. In his hand he felt a slip of paper. He turned his back to grab another evidence bottle, and quickly read the note:

_Gil,_

_Stop by my place when you are finished. I'll have dinner waiting for you – no matter how late._

_Sara._

Below the note was her address and phone number.

Grissom stuffed the note in his pocket and returned to his work. There were two types of bugs present. It had been easy to identify one of them, but the second was unfamiliar to him. He had the feeling that its presence might be critical to solving the case, unfortunately, his research books were back in Las Vegas. Maybe he could try the UC Berkeley library tomorrow? He had done all that he could do. He gathered his notes and the evidence containers. He stored them in the evidence room, logging them in with the attendant in charge.

He found his rental car in the parking lot. He had Sara's note in his pocket.

Sara was dozing on the couch when she heard a quiet knock on the door. She had changed into her tank top and sweats. The salads that she had picked up on the way home were cooling in the refrigerator. She went to the door to let Gil in.

"Hi," he offered shyly, "I trust it's not too late?"

"No, come in, I have dinner in the kitchen. This place is pretty small; I hope you don't mind eating in the living room."

She motioned to the couch and then walked to the kitchen to get their food. Gil sat down on the couch and leaned back, he hadn't appreciated how tired he was. He decided to stretch out for a moment, just while he waited for Sara to return.

"Gil, I hope you like Caesar's Salad, it was all I could find," she called from the kitchen. He didn't respond. She carried the salads into the living room and discovered him fast asleep on the couch.

Sara sighed, "I guess it's been a hard day for both of us." She returned the salads to the refrigerator and then went back into the living room. She carefully removed his shoes and found a blanket to cover him. Looking down on his relaxed face, she reflected on how childlike he appeared in his sleep. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, turned out the light and walked to her bedroom.

"Goodnight, Gil," she called quietly.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

Grissom woke to the faint light of dawn filtered through plastic blinds. "Where am I?" he asked himself, looking around the room. Then he remembered stopping by Sara's home after leaving the morgue. He heard Sara singing softly and smelled fresh pancakes. He laid his head back down and smiled, this was nice. He dozed off again.

"Hey, sleepyhead, it's time to wake up!" Sara said. Still half asleep, he peeked through almost closed eyes. She was leaning over the coffee table, setting down two plates of steaming pancakes. Her tank top gaped open, revealing her bare breasts. Now that would be tasty too, he thought, smiling speculatively.

"What are you smiling about?" Sara laughed, poking him in the ribs, "If we don't get moving we're going to be walking in late, with you still in yesterday's clothes!"

Gil woke fully, sat up, and swung his legs off the couch, "How much time do we have?" His panic was obvious. He still needed to review his notes for the day and put his crime scene photos in order.

Sara laughed again, "Relax, I set the alarm early – it's only 6:00. You still have 3 hours before class."

"Thanks," he grinned back at her. He motioned to the blanket and the pancakes, "You didn't need to do all of this. You should have woken me up and thrown me out."

"It was the least I could do; this seminar is changing my life."

Gil left after they finished their pancakes. Sara stayed to shower and change for the day. He arrived back at the hotel early enough to miss most of the questioning glances. He hurried to his room and read though his notes for the day, leaving the images to be sorted as he presented them. When he finished, he barely had time to shave. He combed his wet hands through his sleep tousled hair, it would have to do.

The auditorium was full when he arrived. Sara smiled from her usual seat. He attached the wireless microphone to his shirt and apologized for being late as he set up his computer.

"We finished yesterday discussing the need to rely on the evidence and not on our hunches. Today I want to begin to delineate the process that we use to secure the crime scene and to preserve evidence for later analysis."

"What is the most important thing to do when you first arrive at a crime scene?"

"Make sure there is no imminent danger from a suspect still on the scene," stated a young man.

Grissom flinched visibly, remembering his last crime scene – he'd forgotten that very important rule and it had nearly cost him his life and his job. Sara noticed his reaction, and made a mental note to tactfully ask him about it later.

"Yes, that is critical and it is also easy for those of us who are scientists to forget. But once the crime scene is secured, and all suspects are cleared from the scene, what is the first thing that an investigator needs to do?"

"Examine the body?"

"Look for fingerprints?"

"Talk to the witnesses?"

Many answers popcorned from the audience. Grissom acknowledge them with a nod, but it was clear he was looking for something different.

Sara offered, "Establish a perimeter to contain and preserve as much of the evidence as possible intact?"

"Yes," Grissom agreed, "Before we even approach the crime scene we need to do our best to ensure the integrity of the scene."

Someone in the back asked, "What exactly do you mean by that, sir?"

"Anytime anyone, including police or investigators, walk onto a crime scene they bring contaminants on their shoes, their clothes, their hands, even their hair. This can create misleading clues. By clearly marking a perimeter outside of the crime area, then limiting the access of individuals within that sealed area, we minimize the false evidence brought into the scene inadvertently."

As the class continued, Grissom offered stories of crime scenes tainted by investigators and the horrible consequences of guilty suspects being freed to commit additional crimes. He took the class, step by step, through the protocol for containing a scene and processing the most fragile of initial evidence.

Once again, Sara captured more than just his eyes as her answers proved detailed, accurate, and insightful time after time. The last hour of class seemed more like a private conversation that the rest of the audience was allowed to observe. She asked question after question about crime scenes that she had experienced as an assistant coroner. She wanted to understand how her role would differ if she returned to the scene as an investigator. Grissom's answers were more specific and exhaustive than he had planned, but he was pleased to be able to share his deepest personal beliefs about the investigative process with someone who understood his passion for truth.

The clock reached noon and Grissom wrapped up his instructional conversation. The audience filed out chatting noisily, their imaginations activated by the animated dialogue they had witnessed. Sara waited at the edge of the stage while Gil packed up.

"Lunch?" she asked simply.

Gil answered, "Yes, and perhaps you could take me to a good research library, maybe Berkeley, to look at some entomology texts? I need to identify that last bug from Jane Doe."

He reached out for her hand as they walked side by side out of the auditorium.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

Sara had heard of a small quiet Italian restaurant near the university

Sara had heard of a small quiet Italian restaurant near the university. Candlelit even during the day, it provided the perfect atmosphere for relaxing with one another. It was hard for Gil to leave work behind; this much Sara had already figured out. She wanted to spend time with him as a man, not with him as her teacher or mentor. There were only a few days to figure out if this was more than an infatuation with a brilliant mind.

Gil was willing to be distracted. He rarely felt at ease with other people and usually hid behind his work, his science. Sara shared his work and his science; they did not provide a shield from her. She had found her way inside his defenses, inside his mind, inside his heart. Silently thanking Jim for sending him to San Francisco as a 'disciplinary action', Gil held Sara's hand in his, absentmindedly stroking her palm with his thumb.

The tingling in Sara's hand spread down her body as he continued his caresses. She watched his mouth, his lips, as he spoke, wanting to feel them against hers. They talked of music, of drama, of literature. Sara found that she would start reciting a favorite poem, only to have him finish it. His taste in music was eclectic, broader than hers. If only there were time to attend concerts together. There was a new drama opening in a few weeks, but he would be back in Vegas by then. Sara decided to enjoy the moment. She gazed into his eyes and listened to his voice as he recited some of his favorite Shakespearean passages. He applied his probing mind the tragic crimes and loves of the Elizabethan playwright and poet, giving Sara insights into the power of the drama that she had never understood before.

Her purse was buzzing. This brought them back to consciousness. It was Dr. Collins paging her regarding work. Gil could see her blood pressure rise.

"I'm late for work again!" she cried. He reached out, calmly took the pager and turned it off.

"Let me handle this," he said. He pulled out his cell phone and called Dr. Collins.

"Dr. Collins, this is Dr. Grissom."

Dr. Collins interrupted, "I thought I paged Sara."

"You did. I needed her help in researching the identity and life cycle of the second insect on Jane Doe's body, so we are in the university district. I should have called to let you know we would be working off site for a few hours. Please accept my apologies."

"Well, wrap up what you are doing and head back here as soon as possible. We've had some developments in the investigation. We may have a name for our victim."

"We'll be there in a couple of hours," Grissom promised and closed his phone.

Sara looked at Gil quizzically, "Remind me not to trust you over the phone. That was a bit too slick of a lie."

"I didn't lie," Gil defended himself, "We are in the university district and we do need to complete some research."

Sara smiled, "Precisely my point – much too smooth."

Gil smiled back and called for the check. They hurried to the library for some quick research.

They were able to find information about the specific species of insect at the library. Gil photocopied the relevant pages. The bug was a type of tick not native to the San Francisco area, being found primarily in the Philippines. There were no known wild populations in the United States. This meant that someone involved in the case had recently traveled in the Philippines bringing back a stowaway tick. They didn't know what significance this might hold, so they returned to the morgue to find out what Dr. Collins and the detectives had learned.

The detectives had tentatively identified the body based on a missing persons report, her father was on his way to the morgue. If it was her, she was a graduate student at UCLA, studying art history, with a focus on the pottery of East Asia. She had been missing for approximately six days. They were still developing a list of suspects based on her friends and acquaintances. She had last been seen at the student union checking her campus mail.

Dr. Collins had completed his autopsy of her body. The cause of death was strangulation. There was evidence of sexual trauma. The victim was approximately three months pregnant. They would be able to perform DNA testing on the embryo if deemed necessary.

Dr. Grissom confirmed the six day timeline for her death based on the life cycle of the insects in her mouth. He also informed the group of the link to the Philippines, and asked them to cross-reference the suspect list with recent trips to the region.

Sara found a computer terminal and researched the airlines with flights from San Francisco to the Philippines. Only two airlines made relatively direct trips, passing through LAX. Given the age of the tick, it had to have been transported back less than two days prior to the murder. This would narrow the search for passengers with a connection to the victim. She passed this information along to the detectives.

The detectives interviewed each of the 'persons of interest' and narrowed the field to two young men who had been dating the victim. They were graduate students, one a botanist, and the other an anthropologist. Both had shoulder length brown hair. Sara took DNA and hair samples from each of them. Grissom asked for the location of a comparison microscope. He showed Sara the process for comparing hair samples. There was a tentative match to one of the young men. They would have to wait for DNA results to confirm the match. It was enough to ask for a warrant to search his apartment.

"Dr. Grissom," the lead detective said, "thank you for your help in this investigation. The evidence that you and Sara have provided for us will assist us in building a case. We can take it from here."

Dr. Grissom, "You're welcome, I'm glad I was available. Keep me posted and I'll be glad to return to San Francisco to testify if needed."

"We'll let you know," the detective concluded.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:**

"Do you have to finish the shift tonight?" Grissom asked Sara as they left the crime lab.

"I'm scheduled to," Sara answered. Grissom walked with her down to the morgue. It was almost 8:00pm, only 3 hours left to work.

Grissom wanted to ask her out again, but he was afraid she might be growing tired of entertaining an old man.

"Hey Gil," Sara stopped and faced him, "I still have those salads in the refrigerator. Do you want a rain check for last night?"

Trying not to appear too eager, he replied, "I'd like that, if it's not too much trouble."

"It's not too much trouble – if it's not too late for you. I wouldn't want to keep you from your beauty sleep!" Sara smiled warmly, touching his arm.

Gil blushed, "Be careful young lady, I might have to take you over my knee and spank you for that."

"Promises, promises…" Sara laughed.

Gil blushed even further.

"Come by at about 11:30. I should be home by then. Really, I'm looking forward to it," Sara suggested, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Gil, surprised by the voltage of her simple kiss, mumbled, "I'll see you then."

Dr. Collins, walking down the long corridor towards the morgue, watched the exchange – the touch, the blush, the kiss. He saw Sara's eyes dance as she watched Dr. Grissom walk away. He saw the grin on Dr. Grissom's face as he passed on his way out. He had watched his son and his two daughters as they had grown up, dated, fallen in love and married. He recognized the special rapport that these two seemed to have with one another. Dr. Collins liked Sara. He knew she had had a hard childhood for, though Sara didn't know it, he had completed the autopsy on her father. He wanted to see her happy as an adult. Unfortunately, he was afraid that she might be hurt by this man at least 12 years her senior.

Precisely at 11:30pm Grissom pulled up in front of Sara's apartment building. He saw her car parked in the space outside her front door. He climbed out of his car and reached back across to the passenger side for some flowers and a bottle of chilled wine. He hoped that she wouldn't find them too old fashioned.

He raised his hand to knock and the door opened.

"Are you always this prompt?" Sara asked. She invited him inside, taking the flowers and the wine into the kitchen.

"I just arrived myself," she called from the kitchen, "Please make yourself at home while I change my clothes."

Grissom walked around the room, looking at the artwork and photographs on the walls. There were a couple of clean, contemporary paintings, as well as framed photos with close-ups of exotic plants and animals. Beautiful. There were no pictures of people, no family. Curious, he thought. Even he, as unemotional as people thought him to be, had photos of his parents and his friends from CSI scattered around his townhouse. Another mystery.

Sara returned, dressed more casually, though not in a tank top and sweats. She stopped to turn on her stereo and the sound of sultry jazz floated softly from the speakers.

"Would you mind helping me grab the food? I don't have enough hands for everything," she asked.

They quickly brought the salads, the wine, and a couple of glasses into the living room. She had placed the flowers in a vase which she set on a side table.

"They're beautiful Gil. I haven't had flowers to enjoy for ages. Thank you!" Sara said.

Gil smiled, "I'm glad you enjoy them. I haven't had anyone to buy flowers for in years." Too much information, he thought, why am I so bad at this!

They sat side by side on the couch to eat their salads, for the first time since they'd met their conversation was stilted and self-conscious. The intimacy of sitting, legs touching, in the privacy of Sara's home overwhelmed both of them. They each had so many questions that they were afraid to ask, so many things they wanted to share, but didn't know how. They finished dinner quickly, and Gil stood to go, feeling ill at ease with the silence.

"Please, don't go," Sara pleaded, "I'd like to dance again, if you don't mind."

They moved the coffee table to the side to clear some floor space, and Gil took her in his arms. They moved in rhythm with the slow jazz, easing closer as the warmth of their bodies broke down the wall built during dinner. Once again, they felt the common longing, the influence that each had over the other.

"We move well together," Sara observed.

Gil answered huskily, "I could hold you in my arms all night." Sara chuckled at Gil's embarrassment as he realized what he had implied.

"I'd like that," Sara said quietly.

They danced in silence, enjoying the feel of their bodies pressed closely together. Gil breathed in the fragrance of her hair and skin. His hands explored her back, caressing gently with his fingers. He brushed her neck with his lips, fighting the urge to nibble on her ear. Sara wrapped her arms around his shoulders, weaving her fingers into his hair; his cologne awakened her senses. She looked up into his eyes, "Kiss me Gil," she asked. He looked into the depths of her eyes and saw his own desire mirrored. He softly touched his lips to hers, teasing, tentative.

"Hmmm…" she encouraged. He kissed her again, exploring her lips with his as they continued to sway to the music. His kisses moved down her neck, her throat, then back to her mouth. He probed her lips with his tongue and she opened her mouth mingling hers with his. He could feel his pulse and his passion rising as their kisses became more urgent, their breathing more broken. His hands moved down until they found their way under her blouse. Fire coursed through her as his fingers discovered the bare skin of her sides, her abdomen, her breasts. She could feel him pressing against her. He groaned, as if in pain, then pushed her away and turned his back.

"No," he said, "I can't do this, not like this."

Sara's heart froze, "Is there someone else? Someone back in Las Vegas?"

"No," he said firmly, "No, there is no one. There hasn't been in a long time."

"Are you afraid you've forgotten how?" Sara encouraged, "Let me assure you, you haven't."

He turned back to face her, his eyes were filled with emotion. "I've only known you for three days and I think I'm falling in love with you, but I leave on Friday afternoon. I don't believe in one, or even two, night stands. You're amazing. I don't want to hurt you by using you, I want more for us," he finished softly.

"But you're not using me, I want you too."

He looked directly into her beautiful eyes; both saw desire mixed with pain.

"I'm sorry. I think I had better go now," he mumbled as he quickly opened the door and walked out.

Sara slammed the door behind him, "Fine then," she screamed, "Leave me alone!" She fled to her room and collapsed on her bed crying. Pounding her fists into her pillow she cried, "Why does everyone I love abandon me?" Anger, then numbness, took the place of love and she fell asleep weeping.

Back at the hotel, Grissom wasn't fairing much better.

"Damn! Why did I hurt her like that? I should have kept my professional distance and not become involved…" he berated himself.

"But then I wouldn't have had the three most incredible days in my life," he whispered.

He asked the silent walls, "How do I fix this?"


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14:**

The auditorium was full again the next morning when Grissom arrived. He set up his equipment and then looked around the room. No sign of Sara. Her two friends were in their places in the front row, an empty seat next to them. They too were looking around, puzzled. Right at 9:00 Sara stormed down the aisle and took her seat. She did not look up. She did not talk to either of her friends. She took out her notebook and pen, and then sat without moving, staring at the floor.

"What's wrong?" asked Mary softly.

Sara ignored her question and scowled. Mary and Leanne shrugged at each other and returned their attention to the front. They noticed Dr. Grissom watching them and they saw the look of disappointment in his eyes.

"Well, it's time to begin," he started. His voice was flat, lifeless. Those in the audience looked at each other; it could be a long morning.

"Today we are going to examine the process of taking a preliminary survey of the crime scene, including the walk through and verbal narrative of the visible evidence. We will talk about the use of photography and of hand drawn sketches in capturing the exact state of the scene following the crime."

No response. She still did not look up. He had really hurt her. He wondered what he would do if she didn't forgive him for last night. His heart fell further and his voice echoed his feelings. The audience settled in for a long day – the Dr. Grissom of old had returned.

Sara could hear the pain in his voice, but she refused to look up. Let him suffer, she thought, he's hurt me too. The lecture continued. Dry as bones. Well, now she knew how he had earned his reputation! Where had the man she had been falling in love with gone? She was determined not to look up, but she was curious why her silence was causing such a strong reaction in him. He was the one who said no. He was the one that rejected her. Why was he acting so depressed? And why was she still drawn to his voice, his words? She longed to look up into his eyes and say, I forgive you, just come back to me. She silently cursed that he still had the power to make her blood race.

During break, Grissom sat on stage and stared at the floor. No one dared approach him to ask any questions. Sara stayed in her seat as well, also staring at the floor. Those that noticed them gossiped about what could have happened. Whatever it was, something had changed.

Hearing the murmuring around her, Sara risked being noticed and glanced up. She saw him sitting, lifeless. Her heart tumbled. Why did he move her so? She wanted to climb on stage and comfort him.

Sensing her gaze, he glanced up. Their eyes connected briefly before she looked down again. Something was still there. It went against his whole disconnected approach to life, but he knew what he had to do; he needed to fight for her, to pursue her. And idea began to grow in the back of his mind, "Yes, then I wouldn't be leaving her in two days, at least not forever."

After the lecture Sara left immediately for work. She would arrive early to make up for her lateness the rest of the week. At the lab, she stowed her purse and changed into her work clothes in the locker room. She then went down to the morgue.

"Sara, what are you doing here so early?" asked Dr. Collins.

Sara looked up, "I thought I should make up some of the hours I missed. But you're here early too."

"You know me, I practically live here since my wife died," he shared.

Sara nodded.

"You're awfully quiet today, is there something wrong?" Dr. Collins asked.

Sara kept her head down and responded softly, "Nothing that the passage of a couple more days won't fix."

He noticed her reddened, puffy eyes, "That bastard," he thought to himself, "If he has hurt her, forced himself on her, I swear, I'll destroy his reputation!"

"Well, let's get to work then," was all he said.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15:**

After class, Grissom called Jim to ask him a favor. Jim had been happy to provide him with a few names. Grissom knew some of the scholars by their publications; he hoped they would be interested in what he had to offer. Grissom drove to the University. He had considered calling on the phone, but he thought he'd have better luck in person. Besides, time was short. If there were any contracts to negotiate or sign he'd need to be on campus anyway.

The discussions went well and the agreements were signed by mid afternoon. Grissom returned to his hotel room to prepare for the next day's class. He wanted to clear his mind of all other responsibilities before he went to the morgue. It seemed ironic that his future life, his happiness, was dependent on a successful trip to the morgue.

Sara was examining the remains of a young man who had apparently been beaten to death. It was rumored that it was a hate crime. She took the usual steps to identify and gather potential evidence. She then looked at the size and shape of the bruising clearly visible on his body. She noted the broken bones, taking x-rays to confirm the angles and nature of the breaks. She took measurements so that she could calculate the force and direction of impact of the myriad of blows that had killed the victim. Occasionally her knowledge of physics helped her in her work. She thought it might help her more as an investigator – particularly in scenes involving multiple guns and shooters. She tried to focus. She didn't want to dwell on Grissom, on what he might be doing with his last afternoon in town. She didn't want to, but she couldn't stop herself. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she worked.

Grissom arrived at the San Francisco crime lab at dusk. He figured that Sara had probably been there all afternoon and might welcome a break. He hoped she would talk to him.

"Can I help you sir?" asked the receptionist.

"I'm Dr. Gilbert Grissom. I need to speak with Dr. Collins, if he is available."

"He should be, let me call him to make sure," she offered as she picked up the phone and dialed Dr. Collin's extension. She spoke on the phone for a minute.

"Have a seat, Dr. Grissom; he will be with you shortly."

"Thanks."

Dr. Collins barely controlled his temper as he walked to the front desk. He had been watching Sara's silent tears all afternoon. He was sure Dr. Grissom was behind her pain and he was livid about it.

"Dr. Grissom, we need to talk," Dr Collins spoke abruptly, without a hand shake or greeting. He did not wait for a reply, but turned and walked back to his office. Grissom followed equally mute. Apparently Sara was still upset.

Dr. Collins waited until they were in his office and the door was closed to begin, "Dr. Grissom, you should not be here. You assistance with this investigation is no longer needed."

"I need to speak with Sara – it will take only a few minutes," Grissom said.

Dr. Collins was visibly angry. "Don't you think you've hurt her enough already?" he bellowed, "She was a mess when she arrived at work today and she's been crying all afternoon!"

Grissom dropped his head, hurting her was what he had hoped to avoid. As usual, he had misunderstood a social situation and communicated the opposite of what he intended.

Dr. Collins continued, "You don't have a reputation as a womanizer, but maybe you should."

"But we didn't do anything," Grissom answered, confused, "Not, um, that anyway."

Now it was Dr. Collins turn to be puzzled – he'd assumed that Dr. Grissom had seduced Sara and then broken up with her.

"Understand – Sara is very important to me. She has no real family, so I try to look out for her," Dr. Collins explained, "What happened that hurt her so much?"

Grissom, usually a very private man, decided he needed to be candid if there was any hope of speaking with Sara alone.

"Sara invited me over for a late dinner last night. After dinner we danced for awhile."

"At her apartment?" Dr. Collins interrupted.

"Yes," Grissom continued, "Things kind of became…heated…we started kissing…but I left before anything, well, before much more happened."

"You left?" Dr. Collins asked, "Well, then you must have said something? She is obviously upset."

Grissom thought back on the encounter, "I'll admit, I wanted more – we both did – but I told her that I'm not into one night stands. That I didn't want to treat her like that… I believe I used the phrase to use her like that. I said that I only had two more days left in town, that it wasn't right. I can't remember my exact words, I wasn't thinking very clearly at the time, but I thought I was doing the right thing."

Dr. Collins anger had lessened, "What did you need to talk with her about tonight, then, if you've ended the relationship?"

"Ended it? That wasn't my intent. I just wanted to slow down out of respect for her," Grissom clarified.

"She seems to think you ended it. She hasn't said anything, but that's how she's acting," Dr. Collins said, "So, again, why do you need to see her?"

Grissom quickly explained, "I wanted to tell her that I will be taking a sabbatical for the summer and that I will be teaching at the University. I want to tell her that I care deeply about her and that I want a chance to get to know her better, um, in every sense."

"I've been observing the two of you these last two days," Dr. Collins disclosed, "I knew something was going on. Sara is used to being hurt – she's not used to being treated with respect by men – especially romantically. Even here in the lab, some of the men verbally mistreat her."

Dr. Collins looked Grissom in the eyes and continued, "My apologies, Dr. Grissom, perhaps your reputation for integrity is deserved. I assumed incorrectly that it was not. As I said earlier, Sara is like a daughter to me, I try to watch out for her, to help her."

Grissom nodded, "Apology accepted. I'm glad she has someone here who cares."

"Sara's in the exam room. Let me have her meet you here. You'll have more privacy to work out this misunderstanding," Dr. Collins said. He stood up and reached over to shake Grissom's hand.

"Please, keep in mind that Sara has been hurt a lot, be sensitive to her – she may be reacting to something from her past. All I ask is that you promise to treat her right," he concluded.

"I promise I will do my best."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16:**

When Dr. Collins told Sara that there was someone there to see her, someone she needed to talk to, she knew it was Grissom. She was torn between the desire to run and the desire to see him squirm under her anger. She decided to watch him squirm. He was waiting in Dr. Collin's office. Well, he could wait awhile longer. She was at work, and she wasn't going to cut corners for anyone, especially Gilbert Grissom. She finished her careful examination of the hate crime victim, changed her gown and washed her hands. She washed the tears streaks off of her face. Now she was ready to face him.

Grissom waited patiently in Dr. Collin's office. The longer he waited, the more he wondered if he had made a mistake in coming to the morgue. Maybe he should just finish the seminar and fly back to Vegas, leaving this whole nightmare behind. But it hadn't been a nightmare – more of a fantasy. He waited.

Sara finally arrived at the office door. She took a deep breath and walked in. Grissom was sitting in a chair in front of Dr. Collin's desk. He rose when she entered and started to move towards her. She motioned for him to stay away. He settled back, leaning against the desk.

"Well, what do you want now, Dr. Grissom," she asked sharply.

Grissom could feel the anger radiating from her, 'What have I done to deserve this?' he asked himself. This must be why Dr. Collins reacted as he did.

"Sara, please, can we talk?" he asked meekly, his eyes sad.

"What's there to talk about? You don't want anything to do with me; you probably were just bored and needed entertainment. Why don't you go back to Las Vegas and leave me alone?" Sara was brutal in her verbal attack.

"Is that what you think?" he asked, his own temper rising.

She nodded.

"Well," he spoke softly, "You're wrong. I didn't even want to come to San Francisco, my supervisor forced me to – either that or lose my job. You were the only bright light in this whole ordeal. I didn't come here looking for some young female to use, I came here to teach forensics. But when you walked in that first day I was stunned. I couldn't think straight, I couldn't focus. That's why I went to Shannon's Bar and Grill, to get you off my mind. And there you were. I couldn't stay away. I had to know more about you. When we danced, I could hardly breathe, your beauty, your sensuality took over my mind and my heart. All I've been able to think about since then is you. Your mind matches mine, thought for thought, you can understand me, keep up with me, even challenge me. I've never met a woman who is so completely captivating. Entertainment? I normally read entomology textbooks for entertainment. I don't know the first thing about women, about dating. This entire time I've been completely out of control!"

"Then why didn't you want me last night?" Sara asked, her own anger somewhat softened by the force of his confession.

"I did want you and I still do," he revealed, "Desperately! But that's not how I was raised to treat women. I want to spend time with you, get to know you, fall in love with you, not just sleep with you and then leave!"

She was used to men who did precisely that – satisfied their own predatory need to seduce and then left. She didn't know what to make of his attitude, his behavior.

"So what did you want to tell me?" Sara asked quietly.

Grissom held out the folder containing his teaching contract. She took it and opened it.

Sara asked, "What's this?"

"It is a contract to teach three intensive courses this summer at the University. I've taken a three month sabbatical from Las Vegas in order to spend the entire summer here with you. It will give us time to learn about each other, to spend time together, to decide if we want a more committed relationship, if we want physical intimacy based on more than the obvious intense chemistry that we have," Grissom explained his plan.

"You did all of this today, for me?" Sara couldn't believe her ears, "No one's ever made that type of sacrifice for me…"

"I want to do this… and more," he promised, "Sara, I find you amazing. You deserve my best. Do you understand now what I was trying to do last night?"

"You mean other than seduce me?" she asked, smiling, "Yes, I think I understand now. Can you forgive me for being angry?"

He opened his arms to her and she eagerly snuggled inside them.

"I think I could love you, Gil," she responded.

"I know I could love you, Sara."

They kissed gently, then more and more passionately. When they broke for air, Grissom added, "I don't fly out until Saturday evening… I hope you can take tomorrow night off." Sara looked deep into his eyes and saw more love than she had ever known.

"I think I can manage that," she smiled and they resumed kissing. Gil caressed her back with his hands, exploring.

"I've never made-out in my boss's office before," Sara quipped, "How scandalous!"

Grissom smiled at her, "I'm glad to hear that."

They were still kissing when, 15 minutes later, Dr. Collins returned to his office.

"Oh, excuse me," he apologized, "I thought you'd be gone by now."

Grissom blushed, "No, excuse us; we shouldn't have been…, um, in here…"

"Sara, would you mind going home a bit early tonight? We've autopsied all of our corpses." Dr. Collins suggested.

"I think I would like that," Sara looked at Gil.

She looked back at Dr. Collins, "Would it be possible for me to take tomorrow off as well?"

"I don't see a problem with that. I'll see you Monday morning then."

He extended his hand, "Dr. Grissom, it has be a delight meeting you, though I felt like smashing your nose earlier tonight! I look forward to working with you again."

Grissom returned his handshake, "Likewise sir, though…" he smiled, "without the threat of violence."

Sara and Gil left the morgue together.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17:**

It was dark, but it was still early as they left the crime lab complex. Grissom didn't know what to do next. Their entire relationship had been forged in the middle of the night and in stolen moments during the seminar and at the lab. Now they had a full evening free.

"Would you like for me to show you around San Francisco?" Sara asked, "It is beautiful at night."

Grissom brushed a loose hair from her face, "You certainly are." Now it was Sara's turn to blush, as Gil continued, "A tour of San Francisco sounds good. Can we start with some food though? I was so discouraged today I couldn't eat."

"I was so angry at you, I couldn't either," Sara said, "I know just the place." They drove both cars to Sara's apartment complex and left Sara's in her parking space. She climbed in his car and gave him directions to a casual restaurant overlooking San Francisco Bay. The night lights were magnificent glinting off the water. It was magical. They were late enough that there were tables available by the window.

"This is perfect," Gil said smiling into her eyes, "Thank you for suggesting it."

"My pleasure," Sara grinned.

"Um, I hate to bring this up, but do you think we should keep to public meeting places for now?" Gil asked carefully.

Sara nodded, "I don't really trust myself either. That's probably a good idea." Gil reached across the table and took Sara's hand in his. The superb view forgotten, they stared into each others eyes and once again found themselves talking through the night. During a lull in the conversation, Sara decided it was time to ask Gil why he came to San Francisco.

"Gil, you said something earlier that puzzled me," Sara said choosing her words carefully.

"What was that?"

"You were forced to teach this seminar in San Francisco to save your job? What did you mean?"

Gil looked at his hands for a few moments, then looking back into her eyes he explained, "Remember on the first day of class you asked how someone could push their emotional responses down?"

Sara nodded, "I would never be able to do that."

"Well, I thought I was good at it…. We had been working double shifts, 6 to 7 days a week for awhile. Not all the scenes involved murders, but many of them did… I was tired, I had been turning off my emotions for so long that I had a hurricane bottled up inside of me. All I knew was that my head hurt severely. I was taking a lot of medicine to keep the pain at bay." He stopped for a drink.

"So what happened?"

"We were called to a double homicide. A couple had been killed in their home, no obvious suspects. The police cleared the scene, or so we thought. I was there with Jim Brass, the homicide detective that runs the CSI department and Catherine Willows, who assists me in supervising the night shift. We had cleared the bodies and the first floor. I headed up to the second floor. Ignoring protocol, I walked into the first room without back up, without even looking up. The next thing I knew I was being tackled. My head struck a dresser as I fell." He pointed to the newly healed scar on his forehead.

"I had wondered about that…"

Gil nodded, then continued his story, "Well, before I could do anything, I was being hauled to my feet, a knife at my throat. I was pulled through the doorway. Jim was coming up the stairs, I couldn't see Catherine. Jim tried to talk him down, but it wasn't working. He had raised the knife and I thought I was going to be stabbed, when Catherine shot the suspect in the head, killing him instantly."

"Oh Gil, how awful!"

"That's not the worst of it. The young man who was killed was not the murderer. His best friend had died suddenly, and he was at the house to talk to one of the victims – his high school counselor. I don't know why he grabbed me. Maybe he thought I was the murderer… Anyway, part of the disciplinary action assigned to me was teaching this seminar."

Sara was silent, tears in her eyes. She could see the pain that still haunted Gil's eyes. Sara said softly, "…it is easy for those of us who are scientists to forget."

"What was that?" Gil asked.

"Oh, something that you said yesterday in class," Sara explained, "I noticed your reaction when the officer mentioned imminent danger at a crime scene. Now I understand – it brought back unwelcome memories."

He nodded then continued, "I have never felt so low in my life. It is bad enough when you have to take the life of a suspect in the commission of a crime, or in defense of someone else, but to cause the death of an innocent young man? I…I still can't forgive myself."

Sara took his hands in hers, allowing him time to regain control of his emotions.

"Thank you for trusting me with this. I cannot imagine how much pain it has caused you," she said.

"Nothing compared to the pain I caused the young man's family and friends."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

Gil concluded, "I don't want to forget what I have done, maybe it will keep me from losing perspective again."

They continued their conversation, steering to less painful subjects. When the restaurant closed at 11:00pm, Gil drove Sara back to her apartment. They talked for awhile in his car and then he walked her to her door.

"It was nice, Gil," Sara said, "not feeling pressured, but simply enjoying being together."

Gil agreed, "I had a wonderful time tonight. I enjoy every moment with you, even in class with 50 witnesses or standing beside you examining a dead body. "

They kissed, finding it difficult to part. Finally, Sara opened her door and backed through, "Goodnight, Gil."

"Goodnight."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18:**

Grissom woke early. It was the last day of the seminar. More importantly, he would have most of the next day and a half to be with Sara. He wasn't scheduled to work until Saturday night so he planned to fly back Saturday evening and head straight to work from the airport. He had already talked with Jim about his desire for a sabbatical, and Jim agreed that it would be a good idea if it would help him reevaluate how he approached his job. They would convince the sheriff when Grissom returned to Las Vegas. Grissom had not mentioned why he wanted to take three months off.

He showered, dressed, grabbed his briefcase, and left for the auditorium. He had one more chance to influence the careers of these officers and to change the lives of those they served.

Arriving early, Grissom set up his equipment and still had time to read through his notes again before people arrived. Sara was the first one through the door. Grissom went down the stage steps and met her in the side aisle by the front row. He gave her a warm kiss, while they still had the room to themselves. They walked to the wings of the auditorium, away from the immediate view of the doors.

Sara smiled, "Have you thought about this afternoon?"

"All night."

Sara laughed, "No, I mean have you thought about what you'd like to do."

"All night," he grinned mischievously.

Sara frowned, "Behave yourself! I'm serious."

"You know this city better than I, what would you suggest?

"We could spend the afternoon in town: Hyde Street Pier, Maritime Museum, maybe a tour of Alcatraz – touristy stuff. Tomorrow I'd like to drive up the coast and explore, I could put together a picnic lunch and we could find someplace overlooking the water to eat."

Gil smiled, taking her in his arms and he kissed her again, "That sounds great! I can hardly wait. How about if I cancel class?"

"I think you'd better get your mind on your work, Doctor," Sara said, kissing him passionately.

Gil mumbled, "That's not going to help me focus on work," then he returned her kiss.

They noticed that people were beginning to arrive, so they stepped away from each other and walked to their separate places.

"You're here early," commented Mary as she took her seat next to Sara.

Sara smiled, "Why is everyone so surprised when I'm early?"

"You're in a better mood today, did you two kiss and make up?" she nodded towards the stage.

"I don't know how to respond to that," Sara said flatly.

"I'll take that to be a yes."

"Please take your seats, so that we can get started," said Grissom cheerfully. After a few moments, he began his lecture.

"I'm sure most of you have had some exposure to evidence collection and processing. Today I would like to give you an overview of how crime scene investigators view evidence. What is the protocol that forensic scientists employ to guide their investigations?"

He projected an image of a typical, if there is such a thing, crime scene.

"What types of evidence should we look for at a scene such as this?"

The lecture continued with Grissom drawing the procedures from the audience, building on their current practices. He explored the more precise methods that crime scene investigators used and gave reasons for such thoroughness. Many people were involved in the discussion. Sara brought in what she knew from working as a coroner, others shared what they had learned in their years in the field as police officers.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19:**

Late in the morning, he presented one final scenario, "There was a shooting in the mountains outside of Las Vegas. The initial story was that two friends were hunting, walking down a hillside, about 30 yards apart when the gun carried by one of the men misfired, shooting the other man in the back. The shooter used his cell phone to call 911, but the victim bled out before help arrived. A tragic accident, but not a crime."

"Here is a picture of the victim's body, front and back, from the autopsy." He left the photo on the screen for a few moments. Then he clicked the computer's touch pad.

"Here is an establishing photograph of the terrain at the scene." He clicked the mouse pad again.

"This is the crime scene sketch developed by investigators. I have added the measurements that they took from the scene, the reported distance from the shooter to the victim, the angle of ascent of the rise that the shooter was standing on, the victim's precise location on the slope, the position of the shooter and the shell casing recovered, and the angle of the wound track in the victim. What do you think? Was this a hunting accident?"

"The wound track has a downward angle, similar to the slope, it could have been an accident," said someone from the left side of the room.

Grissom looked around, "Does everyone agree?"

Most of the audience nodded agreement.

"What was the caliber of the weapon?" asked Sara.

"It was a hunting rifle, a .30-06," answered Grissom.

Sara thought for a few moments and then answered, "No, I don't agree that it was an accident."

"Why not?"

"First, the angle of the shot is wrong. With the speed and rise of a standard .30-06 round and the angle of the wound track, the shooter was lying on the ground in a prone position at the bottom of the hill, say 50 yards away, when he shot his companion. He was not walking down the slope behind him as he claimed. Also, while the shot was a through and through, the entry wound is on the front of the body, not the back – this also contradicts the shooter's story. The shell cartridge was relocated prior to the arrival of the investigators, because it is not in the correct location to match either the story that the shooter presented, or the actual shot. So this was a murder, not an accident," Sara concluded.

Grissom stared at her. He was impressed. Time passed as Grissom reflected on what it had taken for his team to come to that conclusion. Someone in the first row coughed.

"Sorry," Grissom apologized for the silence, "Sar…Ms. Sidle's answer caught me by surprise. You see, she is correct. It was proven to be a murder. When faced with our evidence the shooter confessed. His friend had been seeing his wife behind his back. The shooting had been his way to get revenge on them both. It took my team hours of investigation including an hour with a computer modeling system to come to this conclusion. While I provided the numbers, Ms. Sidle, you cut our time by at least an hour, by completing the complex trajectory calculations in your head. I've never met anyone who could do it that quickly before."

Sara smiled at him, then shrugged, "I like physics."

Grissom returned her smile, then continued the lesson, "Ms. Sidle has pointed out the contradictions, but let's slow down the process and analyze the scene, step by step. Let's see how science, in this case physics, revealed the shooter's lies." They continued their discussion of the case through the remainder of the morning.

The seminar was finally over. Many people came up to Grissom to thank him for his teaching. Some also chose to thank Sara for helping to bring interest to the discussions. Sara waited until the room had cleared, then joined Grissom on the stage.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked.

"Let me drop off my briefcase in my room," he said, "and change out of this suit. Do you want to come up?"

"I'd better wait in the lobby."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20:**

Gil met Sara in the lobby a few minutes later. She admired the way his jeans revealed the tight musculature hidden beneath the loose slacks that he always seemed to wear. They walked out of the hotel and signaled for a cab.

"The nearest stop for the Hyde Street Cable Car," Sara told the cab driver. They settled in the backseat for the short ride.

"I thought we'd start with a cable car ride to the waterfront. We should be able to find some seafood for a quick lunch," Sara shared with Gil.

"That's something that's hard to find in Las Vegas. The restaurants do their best, but it is not the same as it is here on the coast in California. I miss the taste of fresh seafood that I grew up with."

They reached the stop for the Cable Car and paid the cab. "The line will move fast," Sara promised, "And the views and experience are worth it."

They quickly reached the front of the line, paid for their tickets, climbed onto the Cable car, and found a seat. Soon the car was full and it began its slow climb up the hill and then back down.

"This is beautiful," Gil responded to the view. Sara pointed out some of the landmarks of the city and the bay. They were relaxed in each other's company, laughing and talking easily. The ride ended at the Hyde Street Pier terminus. Not far away they found a simple fish stand, and Gil bought them lunch. They sat at a small table overlooking the water, seagulls and other birds begged for a share of their food.

"What do you like to do when you have free time?" asked Gil.

Sara thought for a moment, "I don't really have any hobbies. I research online and I read. I like to go to the movies sometimes. What about you?"

"I never take time off. That's part of why I'm here…. But what time I do have I spend reading or studying professional journals. If a case has really gotten under my skin, I like a good rollercoaster ride!"

"Rollercoasters?! I certainly didn't expect that!" Sara laughed. She could see that he was serious, his face beamed when he talked about them. He shared stories of the thrills of some of the great rollercoasters that he had enjoyed.

"Where do we go now?" Gil asked when they had finished.

"I thought you might enjoy touring the historic vessels docked on the Pier. They are from the early 19th and 20th centuries – I like to crawl around in them and imagine myself traveling up and down the coast."

Sara watched the years flee from Gil's face as he became a young boy exploring the merchant vessels of past centuries. From the Hyde Street Pier they walked to the Maritime Museum, and studied the displays of the history of ocean travel in the region. Along with the displays, there were models of historic vessels and miniatures of their interiors.

Gil was fascinated, "Look at the precision of these models! I feel like I could step right into this captain's cabin and pull out a map to study."

"Did you build models when you were a kid," Sara asked.

"No, but I have often wondered what it would take to build an exact scaled model of a room," Gil explained, "After seeing these, I might build a model of the lab when I get back to Vegas."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21:**

While they talked, Sara's pager buzzed. She pulled out her cell phone and returned the call. She held the phone out, speaker on, so that they could both hear. Grissom put his arm around her shoulders and drew her in close, their heads angled together around the phone.

"Detective Simons," said the voice on the phone.

Sara answered, "This is Sara Sidle, you paged me?"

"Yes, we have some news regarding Jane Doe. Her name is Connie Webster; her father confirmed her identification last night. We didn't find much at the suspect's apartment, but we did find some shoes with organic matter – leaves and seed pods – and mud that looks similar to that on the victim's feet and clothes. Unfortunately, the hair sample didn't have enough root left for a DNA identification."

"Do you think there would be enough plant material for DNA comparison?" asked Grissom.

"Oh, hello Dr. Grissom, I didn't expect you…" Simons replied, "That's an idea. I can ask our DNA technician,"

Sara asked, "Did you find any evidence of recent travel, or of a connection to the Philippines?"

"We didn't find his passport, though according to the state department he has been issued one. He received a visa for Australia, but nothing for the Philippines. The airlines have no record of recent ticket sales or travel."

"What about the Philippine tick? It had to travel here somehow. Check with cargo flights from the region as well, perhaps the bug hitched a ride on someone else," Grissom suggested, "Also, have your DNA technician draw a blood sample from the tick and process it. It should show the DNA for both the victim and the person who carried it to the scene."

"Is that really possible?" asked Simons.

"Yes, I've used that technique more than once to place a suspect in contact with the victim."

"Thanks, I'll get on that right away. I'll keep you posted. I thought this case was dead in the water, but perhaps we still have a chance of solving it."

"Glad we could help," replied Grissom. Sara said goodbye to Simons and hung up the phone.

"Do you want to spend the rest of the afternoon working the case?" Sara asked.

Gil leaned over and kissed her then said, "No, they can take care of it; I'd rather spend the day alone with you."

When they were finished with the Maritime Museum, they took a long stroll down the promenade to Pier 41 and the ferry to Alcatraz. The afternoon tour was sold out, but Gil found some tourists willing to sell them their tickets for a profit. He rented the tapes and equipment for the audio tour of the prison complex.

"I've always wanted to see Alcatraz," Sara commented, "But it seems like you never see the important sites in your home city."

Grissom reflected, "I've put a lot of criminals in prison. I've walked through the halls and yards of many modern prison complexes, but I imagine the effect of this isolated island, the hopelessness in the midst of the beauty of San Francisco Bay, was even more disheartening for these prisoners."

Sara nodded, and they found a place on the rail of the ferry to watch the scenery of San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge as they took the short ride to the island. The sun glinted off Sara's dark hair drawing his attention. Sara smiled up at him, and the joy jumped from her eyes to his. He turned and wrapped his arms around her, oblivious of the crowd on the deck behind them.

"This has been a wonderful day, Sara. I don't think I have ever been this happy," he said. He reached up and caressed her cheek with his hand, allowing it to slide around the back of her neck. His fingers entwined in her hair; he leaned over and kissed her lovingly. They continued kissing, ignoring the beautiful scenery that passed by. Finally, the ferry's whistle blew indicating their arrival on Alcatraz Island. They wove their fingers together as they walked down the ramp and prepared for their audio tour of the infamous prison.

When they arrived back at the pier following the tour, they hailed a cab, and rode back to the hotel, snuggling in the back seat. Gil went up to his room and Sara drove to her apartment to change for their evening on the town.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22:**

Gil knocked on Sara's front door at 7:00pm. Sara opened the door wide, her clutch purse in hand, and walked out. Speechless, Gil's eyes roved over her body. She had curled her hair and left it loose, cascading across her bare shoulders. Her short, form-fitting black dress left just enough for his imagination. He followed her slender legs down to her black heels. He smiled, looking back at her face, noticing her make-up and jewelry for the first time.

"You look incredible!" he finally found words. Sara smiled. She had been checking out his black suit, with its subtle pinstripe, and his dressy loafers. His blue shirt echoed his blue eyes, making them even more penetrating. She thought she could smell a hint of his aftershave and cologne.

"You don't look too bad yourself, handsome!" she laughed, "There's a restaurant near the wharf that has the most tantalizing seafood that I know of. I normally can't afford to even breathe the air by the door, but since you're on an expense account…"

Gil smiled graciously, "Even if I weren't, I would want to take you there."

They walked to his car; he opened the passenger door for her, watching her skirt tease as she twisted her long legs into the car. While they drove, she rested her hand on his thigh so he could hold and caress it. They drove in a comfortable silence, each anticipating the evening ahead.

Sara had called for reservations, so they were seated soon after they arrived at a small secluded table by the window. Holding hands and gazing into each others' eyes, they didn't see the menus the maitre de placed in front of them. When the waiter came, Gil asked for his recommendations, and then they ordered.

"I hope they have a dance floor somewhere in this restaurant," Gil shared, thinking of holding Sara in his arms and feeling her body through the smooth silk of her dress.

Sara smiled, "In the lounge. The dance floor is surrounded by glass, so that it seems as if you are on the beach, dancing under the stars."

"It sounds as if you've been here often?" he asked, worried that he might have younger competition.

"No, but I read the tourist brochure until it was ragged. I've never been to such an elegant place before." Their food and wine arrived, and they began to enjoy the succulent flavors.

"What is it like in Las Vegas? Are there restaurants like this?" Sara asked.

Gil frowned, "Yes, but I see them under less appealing circumstances."

"Dead bodies?"

"Yes, sometimes."

"Describe your team for me. You've mentioned Catherine and Jim, but what are they like?"

"I've worked with Jim for many years. He transferred in from New Jersey about twelve years ago. He's your quintessential detective. Always wears a suit, dry humor, calm manner. He lulls suspects into thinking their safe, and then he hammers them with the truth. He's a good man, both as a boss and as a friend."

"And Catherine?"

Gil smiled, thinking about Catherine, "Catherine is as far opposite from Jim as you can get. She's gorgeous, passionate, and professional. She understands the Vegas lifestyle and mindset more than anyone else on the team, except perhaps Rick."

"Always professional?"

"If you mean is there anything going on between us, no, there is not. She finds me about as socially interesting as the bugs I research. But we work well together and I do consider her a close friend."

Sara nodded, a bit reassured, "Who else is on the team?"

"We have two CSI level 2's, Nick Stokes and Warrick Brown. Nick's from Texas, a former football player. Intelligent and sincere. He might be a bit too self-confident sometimes, but he's a good investigator and scientist. Warrick Brown – Rick – is from Vegas. Raised by his grandmother, he's worked hard to escape the streets. His passion for life sometimes gets him into trouble, but he's my right arm as an investigator."

"Not Catherine?"

Gil thought for a moment, "Well, I may have two right arms."

"That would be awkward."

"It is at times. We're like a family, sometimes we butt heads, but we are always walking in the same direction in the end."

They had finished their meals and Gil asked for the check. They also asked for directions to the lounge. The setting was as magical as Sara's brochure had promised.

"Shall we?" asked Gil, as he led Sara to the dance floor. There was a live band playing classic love songs. Fortunately, they were playing slow tunes, easy for Gil to handle.

Gil held her close, one arm around her back, the other clutching her hand to his chest. Sara's body melted into his as they swayed to the music.

"You don't dance much do you?" asked Sara.

Gil grimaced, "Is it that obvious?"

"No, actually you dance quite well," she reassured him, "But you seem to stick to the slow numbers."

"They allow me to hold you closer," he replied, demonstrating by easing his second arm around her back.

"Mmmm… you seem to have both a right and a left tonight."

"What?"

"Arms. You couldn't hug me like this with two right arms."

He smiled at her reference to his Vegas team. He gently brushed her hair aside, so he could investigate her neck with his lips as they danced.

"You could get us arrested you know," she whispered, "Remember we're in public."

"Sara, when I'm with you there's no one else in the room."

"Gil, if there were no one else in the room, my dress and your suit would be lying on the floor by now."

"Hmmm, that could be arranged," he said, teasing her by playing with the zipper on her dress.

"Stop that, Gil," Sara laughed softly, "I can't take you anywhere."

"Wait 'til I get back this summer. We may never leave the apartment."

Sara leaned back and looked Gil in the eyes, tears forming, "Why did you remind me that you're leaving?"

"I'm sorry Sara," Gil apologized, "I always say the wrong thing."

She snuggled back into his arms, "We are together tonight, it's enough for now." They held each other close. Gil memorized the fragrance of her hair, the seductive softness of her skin, the sensual curves of her body, the feeling of their lips joining, the music of her voice, whispering in his ear. Sara captured the scent of his cologne, the electrifying softness of his lips tracing the curves on her neck, the muscles in his arms, his chest, his legs, the enticing warmth of his breath against her skin.

When they returned to her apartment, neither could find the strength to leave the car. They kissed with increasing passion. Their hands lost control as they touched and caressed each other's bodies. Fire coursed through their veins, as their need to be together consumed them. One of his hands found her breasts, teasing and stroking them as they kissed, his other hand massaged her legs, easing her skirt higher. Her hands moved down to his thighs, exploring the muscles of his legs, inching, tantalizingly upward… Sara groaned as the desire to feel him inside her became overwhelming.

"Gil, please, I want to be with you, it's our last night," she breathed. Gil couldn't find his voice. The intensity of sensations moving through him blocked his mind, making it difficult to think. He knew once they gave in to their love, their passion, he wouldn't be able to leave her. He stopped kissing her and pulled back to look in her eyes.

"Sara, I want you too, but we need to wait. I promise you that I will be back. Think how much harder it will be to be apart if we give in now."

Sara looked back into his eyes and saw only love. She nodded, tears streaming down her face, knowing that her body would not soon forgive her for agreeing with him. She kissed him one last time, then opened the car door and fled to her apartment.

Once inside she leaned against the door, hugging her purse to her chest, until her breathing calmed. Gil sat in the car, with his head resting against the back of the seat. Was he crazy? Here was an amazing, beautiful young woman, willing to give herself to him with exhilarating passion and he was saying no? He drove back to the hotel and took a long, torturous cold shower before going to bed and dreaming of Sara.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23:**

Early the next morning, Grissom packed his belongings. He placed his work clothes and shoes in his carry on bag, so he could get to them quickly once back in Vegas. He checked out of his room and loaded his gear into his rental car. A few minutes later, he pulled up outside of Sara's apartment. He knocked, and she met him at the door with two small backpacks.

She raised one, "Lunch is in this one," and then the other, "A blanket, and a few other things are in here." They placed them in the trunk of the car. He unlocked the driver's door and handed her the keys.

"Since you know where we are going, why don't you drive?" he suggested.

Sara smiled, "Great! I prefer to be in the driver's seat." Gil raised his eyebrows, processing that revelation. Sara headed north, quickly navigating through town and out across the Golden Gate Bridge. Several miles north of the bridge, she angled left onto Highway 1.

"I thought I'd show you the only natural refuge still left in this part of California," Sara explained.

"Didn't you grow up around here?"

Sara hesitated, "Yes." I hope the ghosts keep quiet, she thought.

Not noticing her reluctance to share, Gil commented, "It's beautiful around here. It must have been a wonderful place to be a child." Sara focused on the road, glad that a particularly sharp turn needed her attention. He didn't sense the tension in her body that seemed to increase when he asked about her personal life.

The road veered around Sausalito and Sara commented, "Connie Webster's body was found in the woods near here – off an isolated path in Mount Tamalpais State Park."

"I didn't realize there were such seemingly remote regions just outside of the city."

"Yes, there are several State Parks along the coast here, as well as some forest lands a bit further inland." They drove in silence for awhile, taking in the beauty of the coastal highway.

"Sara, what did you think about the seminar this week?"

Laughing she replied, "Well, it was taught by this really sexy older guy…" Gil blushed.

"Seriously, did you find what you were looking for?"

"Yes, definitely! Not only what but who!" Sara replied as she reached across to squeeze his hand.

Sara sobered up, "Okay, I'll be serious. Yes, you answered a lot of my questions about becoming an investigator. As a coroner, my involvement in the resolution of the case is limited. As an investigator, I would be integral to the entire process. I like that idea, but I'm worried about my ability to keep a balanced perspective."

"Why?"

"I'm not very good at controlling my emotions. Sometimes I identify too much with the victims," Sara confessed, then hoped he didn't ask why again. Fortunately, picking up subtle emotional clues was not his strength.

"That's something you have to learn over time. At first it is difficult, but you realize you won't be much help to the victim if you don't keep a clear mind."

Sara thought about that for a few moments. It made sense, but it might not be enough to overcome her fears.

"The police department has formed a new investigative division – a CSI team. Some of the detectives, those with scientific backgrounds, are transferring into it. I'm thinking of requesting a transfer as well," Sara explained.

"Dr. Collins seems very protective of you," Grissom said, remembering their near fight, "Does he support you in this?"

"Yes, actually he was the one who suggested that I look into it. He was the one who recommended that I take your seminar in the first place."

"Remind me to send him a thank you gift!" Grissom smiled. Sara looked over and returned Grissom's smile.

"I should too," she agreed. Sara pointed out a bit more of the scenery as they drove passed Stinson Beach and into Tomales Bay National Park. They continued talking about working as an investigator, as they progressed northward.

"If I decide to apply for the CSI division, will you help me learn what I need to know?" Sara asked as they drove.

"Of course! I will do whatever I can. It may be harder long distance…" Other things were harder too when long distances separated, but that remained unspoken.

Finally, Sara turned inland onto Sir Francis Drake Boulevard and followed the signs into Inverness.

"I thought we could start our explorations in Inverness. It's not the usual starting point for hiking, but I know some back trails here that are less crowded, and the views of Tomales Bay are incredible," Sara said. They drove through Inverness, passing a number of quaint restaurants and Bed and Breakfasts.

Several miles north of town, they passed an older two story home set back from the road. A decaying sign lay next to the driveway; the words no longer legible. The paint on the house was pealing and the roof sagged. It had obviously been vacant for years. Sara kept her eyes fixed on the road, as if there were nothing there. In her mind, she saw a little girl, running across the open fields towards the tree line; she heard a woman crying and moaning in pain. About a mile further down the road, Sara pulled onto a dirt path. She drove for a few minutes, until it widened into a clearing. She pulled off to the side of the path and turned off the engine.

"Where are we?" Gil asked, puzzled.

Sara looked into his eyes, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, but?"

"There are trails up ahead. They are not marked, but they are used by the locals. I used to run on them when I was a child."

"You grew up here?"

"Yes, near here." They climbed out of the car, retrieving the backpacks from the trunk, and headed down the dirt road. She smiled, Gil's presence seemed to be keeping the ghosts away.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24:**

They hiked for about an hour into the woods, Grissom was distracted by the insects that flitted about the trail. They were refreshingly different from the ones that he saw regularly in the desert. Those that he could catch or sneak up on, he showed to Sara, explaining their habits. The tracks were narrow and overgrown; resembling animal paths, but Sara's confidence reassured him that she knew where she was going. When they rounded a turn his trust was rewarded. Sara had brought him to a clearing on the edge of a cliff overlooking Tomales Bay and the back side of Point Reyes Park.

"Will this due for our picnic lunch?" Sara asked, noticing the look of pleasure in Gil's eyes as he admired the open view.

"I had no idea what to expect. This is fantastic!" He put his arm around her and drew her close. He kissed her passionately.

"No, it's perfect," He revised. He kissed her again, deepening the kiss. She returned his passion. His lips brushed her neck, moving down to her throat; his hands reached up to her shoulders and removed her backpack. He then reached back to take off his own backpack. They held each other close, struggling to maintain control.

"Let's have lunch, then we can talk," Sara suggested. They unpacked the backpacks, spreading the blanket on the ground back far enough from the edge to feel safe. Sara unpacked the food and they sat down to eat.

"Sara, Dr. Collins mentioned something that has been bothering me," Grissom began, "He said that some of the guys in the department harass you. If you don't mind my asking, what did he mean?"

Sara was silent for a few moments, thinking about how to explain. Then she shared, "You have probably experienced some of the same things. You've said people, even friends, say you're better with bugs than people. They don't accept you as you are. They don't understand how your mind works or what is important to you. Right?"

Grissom nodded, "I usually stay in my own world – it's what I'm comfortable with."

"Well, I've always had the same problem. I'm too curious, too driven, too emotional, or that's what they say. No normal woman would choose to dissect dead bodies, so I must not be normal. I won't go out with any of them, because they're jerks, so I must be a lesbian. Most of the guys are okay, but there are a few who find every opportunity to put me in my place. It's been that way as long as I can remember. I cope. Though it's nice when I find someone who does understand..." She reached out to put her hand over his.

"I'm sorry they've treated you like that. Why do some men treat smart, competent, beautiful women that way – immaturity? insecurity?" Grissom responded, "You deserve better, if they only knew what they were missing!"

"I've found better," Sara looked at Gil and smiled.

"Thanks," Gil grinned, "Please kick me if I ever start acting like them."

"Okay, um, I'm afraid to ask, but when do you have to leave for the airport?" Sara asked.

"My flight's at 7:30pm. I guess I should be to the airport by 6:00 or 6:30…"

"So we need to leave here by at least 2:30 or so," she calculated and then set the alarm on her watch. She looked up to catch him observing her, "In case we loose track of time again."

They both realized how little time they had left. They finished eating and packed up the left over food, so they wouldn't have to take time later.

Sara walked to the edge of the cliff, motioning for Gil to join her.

"It's beautiful up here," he commented, looking out across the bay.

"There's something else I'd like to show you," she said, "It's down here." She started to step forward, and it looked like she was stepping off the cliff. He grabbed her arm, pulling her back into his embrace.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Sara assured him, "It's okay, look down…" He followed her eyes off the edge of the cliff and noticed a small ledge that sloped gradually downward, opening to a wider ledge about fifteen feet away. She took his hand and led him slowly down the narrow path. At the bottom he saw that there was a cave entrance. He had to crouch to see inside. It opened back into the rock face, only about four feet high and deep, and maybe six feet wide, it seemed to be minimally protected from the elements. Sara, still holding his hand, knelt beside him. As his eyes adjusted, Grissom began to see shapes at the back of the cave. Some sort of disintegrating mat or bedding, a small pile of rusty cans, a torn teddy bear.

"What is this?" he asked quietly, "Why are we here?" Sara turned to face him, and looked deeply into his puzzled eyes. He could see tears forming in her eyes, contradicting the smile on her lips.

"When I was a child, this was my special place. This was where I came when I needed to feel safe." He remained silent, waiting patiently for her to continue.

"I have found a new safe place," she reached up and rested her hand on his chest, over his heart, "I don't need this one anymore." She motioned back towards the cave. Not knowing how to respond, Gil simply opened his arms and drew her into a warm hug. He thought to himself, 'Oh Sara, I hope you're not making a mistake trusting me like this…' He moved back into the cave, shifting the debris carefully aside until his back was resting on the far wall, Sara snuggled against him, leaning her head on his chest, drawing his arms back around her.

"This is better," he said. They didn't say anything for a long time, but enjoyed the closeness, the feeling of belonging, of no longer being alone.

"I work night shift in Vegas." Grissom broke the spell, "when I'm not working a double shift, I usually sleep during the day."

"For now I'm on day shift. So we could talk in the evenings?" Sara asked.

"That's what I was thinking," he agreed.

"If I transfer to CSI I don't know what shift I'd be working, but we can figure that out if I am selected," she added, "When Simons finds out who killed Connie Webster, you'll have to come back for the preliminary hearing and the trial, right?"

"If the District Attorney feels it's necessary. You worked with me on all of the evidence I handled, they might ask you to testify."

"I hope not. I wouldn't know how to handle cross examinations," Sara responded.

"There's only a few more months until summer. Maybe I can fly down for a weekend or two between now and then?" he offered.

"I don't want to think about it anymore. We'll work it out," Sara said as she looked up into his eyes and kissed him gently. Gil returned the kiss lovingly. He brushed her hair from her forehead, so that he could see her eyes clearly.

"Sara, honey, I hope you realize what you're doing… I'm not very good at being human. It's so much easier to relate to flies and bees."

"Gil, you're better at it than you know." He kissed her again and then leaned back against the wall, pulling her in close, resting her head on his shoulder. His fingers stroked her hair soothingly. They talked quietly about the week, sharing things they had noticed about each other, how they could find ways to be together. The turbulence of the week finally caught up with Sara and feeling safe and loved in Gil's arms, she fell asleep.

He watched her sleep, not wanting to move, not wanting to wake her. He looked out across the Bay and the moors, towards the ocean. How had this happened to him? He thought he'd been happy alone all these years. Now, after a few short days, he knew he'd never be truly happy again until they were together. Their lives were now entwined, their hearts joined. Lulled by the peaceful setting and Sara's steady breathing, Gil dozed off too.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25:**

"Beep, beep, beep."

"Beep, beep, beep."

"Beep, beep, beep."

Sara woke to the sound of her watch alarm. Still wrapped in Gil's arms, she glanced up to see that he too was half asleep and disoriented.

"Good morning," she greeted him, "I guess it's time to leave."

"Must we? I like it here." He leaned down to kiss her.

"As far as I'm concerned, we could stay forever, but I think you're boss might not like the idea."

Reluctantly, stiffly, they shifted to their knees and began crawling towards the cave entrance. Gil hesitated for a moment, and then reached back for the teddy bear. They walked carefully back up the slope. While Sara checked to make sure they hadn't left any food behind, Gil retrieved and folded the blanket, placing it and the teddy bear in the empty backpack. Sara took the lead and they headed back to the car. Holding hands where possible, they spoke very little while walking. Reaching the car, they loaded the backpacks in the trunk and climbed in. Sara drove again, reversing the path that brought them to the woods.

Their trip back was as quiet as their walk – emotions running too high, neither seemed to know what to say. They drove straight to the airport. Traffic was light, so they made good time, arriving at 5:30pm. They returned the rental car; Gil grabbed his suitcase, his briefcase, and a small carry on duffle bag. Sara grabbed the two backpacks. They found a shuttle to the terminal and Gil checked in his suitcase.

"It looks like we have some time," Gil spoke, "Would you like to have dinner before you head home?"

Sara nodded, "I'd like that. I'm not looking forward to my empty apartment." Gil steered her to what looked like a real restaurant, not an airport snack bar, and they found a booth. They ordered quickly, and then focused their attention on each other. Grissom dug around in his briefcase, and pulled out a CD case.

"Would you like my seminar notes and images? I burned them on a CD for you last night," Grissom offered.

Sara looked surprised, "You knew I'd be applying for CSI?"

"Yes," Gil grinned, "I was fairly confident you would."

"Thanks! I can combine them with my notes and review everything."

"Good. I have a book in my office that I'd like to send you as well, if, um, I could have your address," asked Grissom.

Sara smiled, "I'll even throw in my phone number, in case you feel like calling sometime." She wrote her address and phone number on a napkin and handed it to him. He placed it in his shirt pocket.

"I'll program it for speed dial. Here's my address, e-mail, and phone, both home and cell," he handed her a business card, with handwritten numbers on the back, "I'm serious about keeping in touch."

"Thanks, I am too." Their food arrived and they ate quietly.

"I'm sorry I'm so quiet," Sara apologized, "I'm trying not to start crying." Gil reached across the table and held her hand. Gazing into her eyes, he saw the tears build and overflow down her cheeks. He gently brushed the tears away, only to find more falling. He signaled for the check and paid.

"Let's find someplace to talk," he suggested. They grabbed their stuff and headed toward the gate for his flight. Finding the gate, they headed for a corner away from the crowds. Setting their bags down, they fell naturally into a close hug. Sara's tears dampened Gil's shirt as he held her, stroking her hair. The loudspeakers called Grissom's flight number. He took her chin in his hand and lifted it, so that he could see her eyes. He kissed one then the other, tasting her salty tears. He kissed her on the lips.

"Sara, I'll call as soon as I get to Vegas. Please believe me, this is not goodbye."

Sara smiled bravely, "My mind understands that, but my heart is a little slow sometimes." Grissom's flight number was called for final boarding. He kissed her one last time.

"Trust me, I'll call!" he promised her. He picked up his belongings, pulled out his ticket and jogged towards the gate. Sara watched as they closed the boarding ramp behind him, and the plane pushed back to taxi towards the runway. She then walked outside the baggage claim area and flagged down a taxi. Her vision still blurred, she was glad she didn't have to drive.

Back at her apartment, she put the left over food away, and then dropped the backpacks on the floor. She'd deal with them later. She found her portable phone and headed for her bedroom. She dressed for bed, turned off the lights, and climbed in, still clutching the phone.

Grissom stowed his luggage and found his seat as the plane pulled back from the ramp. The man sitting in the next seat introduced himself.

"First time traveling without your wife?" he asked.

"What?" Grissom asked.

The man explained, "I noticed the two of you in the corner. You both seemed pretty upset."

"Oh, um, yes, it was difficult saying goodbye." Grissom hoped his seat mate wouldn't be talkative the whole flight. He pulled out one of his entomology journals to read. The man took the hint, and turned back to his own book. Grissom stared at the page without focusing his eyes. He had never been so emotionally alive in his life. His nerves seemed almost raw – so much for a nice relaxing seminar to prepare him to return to work. Grissom set his magazine down, leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes. An uncommon tear escaped his eye and fled down his cheek. It was a short flight, but he would be running on fumes by the end of shift, even a short nap would help.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26:**

Grissom's flight arrived on schedule. He claimed his suitcase, retrieved his car from long term parking and then drove to the crime lab. He dropped his briefcase in his office and walked quickly to the locker room to change out of his jeans and into his work clothes. Catherine Willows and Nick Stokes were chatting in the break room as he passed.

"Was that Grissom?" asked Catherine.

Nick replied, "He seemed in a hurry. I guess he's glad to be back."

They shrugged and went back to their conversation.

Grissom, unaware of the stir caused by his entrance, quickly changed into his black slacks and collared t-shirt. Returning to his office, he pulled out his cell phone. He was still under the spell of the emotional freedom that he had experienced in San Francisco. He glanced at the phone number that he had memorized while waiting for his baggage, and dialed it. It rang twice.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Sara, how are you doing?" He spun his chair so his back was to his door. He didn't notice Catherine and Nick approaching his office to welcome him back.

"I'm okay, but I miss you already."

"I miss you too. I don't know what you'll think of this, but the man sitting next to me on the plane thought you were my wife. He noticed us saying goodbye."

"Hmmm… interesting. How much time do you have to talk?"

"Only a few minutes, shift starts at 11:00pm."

"Well, call me after you get some sleep, okay?"

"I'll call as soon as I can tomorrow. Get some sleep."

"Gil, is it too soon to say I love you?"

Gil hesitated, he rarely used those words, but it is what he had been feeling all week. Finally, he admitted it to himself and to Sara, "I love you too."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, honey."

Nick and Catherine stared at Grissom's back, who was this man?

Catherine echoed Grissom's, "I'll call as soon as I can?"

"I love you too?" Nick quoted.

"Goodnight honey?" Catherine added. Grissom, hearing their voices, spun back to face them.

"Um, hi guys, any interesting cases while I was gone?" Grissom asked innocently.

Catherine grinned, "Not nearly as interesting as that phone call. Spill it Grissom, what was that all about?" Grissom gave them a deer in the headlights look. He didn't know how much they had heard.

"I'm sorry, but it's personal," Grissom tried to cover his embarrassment.

Catherine wasn't letting it go so easily, "Saying, 'I love you' usually is!" Jim Brass and Warrick Brown appeared behind Nick and Catherine.

"Who loves who?" asked Warrick.

Nick explained, "That's what we're trying to find out. Grissom told someone on the phone that he loved her." Seeing his friend's discomfort with the teasing Jim tried to help out.

"He was probably talking to his mother, let's focus on work please," Jim said.

Catherine asked, "Do you call your mother, 'Honey' Jim?"

Jim replied, "You've obviously never met my mother. We have a new case tonight, so let's get to work." Jim shuffled some papers, glancing at Gil speculatively, Gil's mother was deaf – who was he talking to?

"Okay, Nick and Catherine, you've got a dead body at the Flamingo. Warrick, you and I need to follow up on last night's case. Gil, you take any calls that come in, meanwhile do something with the mountain of paperwork on your desk. We'll talk later."

Everyone left, and Grissom noticed the thick pile of mail on his desk. Ughhhh… Well, first things first, he walked to a bookshelf at the back of his office, and searched for a certain forensics text. Finding it, he wrote a message inside the front cover and then signed it. He pulled a padded mailing envelope from his desk and placed the book inside. He checked the address on the napkin and copied it to the package. He then dropped it off with the receptionist to be placed in the morning mail. Smiling, he returned to his office and began sorting through the papers.

A couple of hours later, Jim and Warrick returned to the lab. Warrick went to process the evidence from his case, Jim sought out Grissom.

"Welcome back," Jim stated walking through the door to Gil's office. "You look refreshed; I hope you're ready to take charge again?"

"I think I'm where I need to be," Grissom offered, "I'm anxious to get back to working cases."

"I'm sure there will be something soon, unfortunately, crime never stops."

"Do you think there will be a problem having my sabbatical approved?" Gil asked.

Jim looked at his friend, "Are you that eager to return to San Francisco? Was Catherine serious about overhearing you on the phone?"

"How many years have we known each other Jim?"

"Twelve or so, why?"

"In all those years have I ever let something personal interfere with my work here at the lab?"

"Gil, to my knowledge, there's never been anything romantic in your life at all. Has that changed?" Grissom measured Jim's concern, and carefully worded his response.

"You have my assurance there will continue to be no problems."

"And the Sabbatical?" Jim asked.

Grissom smiled, "I've discovered I like teaching. Working with students challenges my mind in a new way. And I think I need that balance to keep my perspective in the field."

"I'll see what I can do," Jim replied, "But Ecklie has his panties in a bunch about night shift being short handed all the time."

"Don't our arrest and conviction rates address that concern? Even with fewer investigators we lead the lab, right?"

"True, but I wouldn't wave that flag in his face right now," Jim said as he turned to leave. He turned back, "Gil, if there is anything that you're not telling me that would effect our decision, Ecklie will find it and throw it back at you."

"Ecklie couldn't find his way out of a lunch sack," Grissom declared, "Jim, stop worrying, this is me we're talking about. Do you really think I'd allow my emotions to interfere with my work?"

Jim noted the sincerity in his friend's eyes, "Alright Gil, you've convinced me, though sometimes I wish you would let a few emotions get in the way – it would be healthier for you."

Grissom thought about how he had responded to Jim's concerns. Maybe Sara's observation about his ability to hedge the truth was valid. He knew he cared for her, even loved her, but he wasn't ready to be that vulnerable to his coworkers yet. He needed to take control of his emotions again. His week in San Francisco had been idyllic, but could it be sustained? All he was confident about was his ability to work cases and solve crimes. He returned to the dreaded mail.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27:**

Sunday had been lonely. Sara found the teddy bear when she unloaded the backpacks from the picnic. She spent hours hugging it and crying. She and Grissom had talked on Sunday afternoon and then again in the evening. Gil, finally able to laugh about it, shared the story of being overheard at work the previous night. He told her he would have to call her from home to avoid problems. She thanked him for saving the bear, releasing a new wave of silent tears. She told him that she had filled out the application for transfer and would be turning it in first thing in the morning. They talked until Grissom arrived at work, agreeing to talk again soon.

Grissom dreaded the idea of another night of paperwork, luckily for him someone else's luck ran out first. He and Warrick headed out to investigate a shooting behind a night club near the Tangiers. Warrick drove the SUV, allowing Grissom to replay his recent phone conversations in his mind. It was hard not being able to see her reactions to his words, but he was learning to hear the subtle changes in her voice and breathing. Seemingly miles away, Warrick glanced from the driver's seat over to Grissom.

"Earth to Grissom," he called, "Come in Gris." Grissom set his earlier conversation aside, and joined Warrick in the present.

"Sorry, what were you saying, Rick?"

"Hey, where were you Gris? I'm used to you checking out on me while you think about a case, but we haven't even seen the body yet."

"I wasn't anywhere, I was just thinking about something," he replied.

"Something or someone?" Warrick probed.

"Rick, please don't start….Catherine's bad enough," Grissom said testily.

Warrick sensing Grissom's temper rising, backed off, "Sorry Grissom, it won't happen again." Whatever was going on in Grissom's life, it was clearly marked confidential, and Warrick had to respect that. He would expect nothing less in return.

They arrived at the scene, pulled out their cameras and their kits and began working the case.

Monday morning Sara arrived at work early, risking questions from her coworkers. She tracked down Dr. Collins in his office and handed him her CSI application.

"I've decided to request a transfer," she shared.

Dr. Collins nodded, "I thought you would, I've already written a letter of reference for you. You can send it with your application."

"Thank you! I don't know why you are helping me, but I really appreciate it!"

"You're welcome. By the way, how was your weekend off?" he asked.

Sara beamed, "It was wonderful. I don't remember ever being this happy." Sara hesitated.

"But…" Dr. Collins prompted her to continue.

"Would you mind not mentioning it again here at work? I don't want anyone knowing about, um, Dr. Grissom, for now."

"Enough said, you're privacy will be respected by me."

"Thanks." She walked from his office to Human Resources and turned in her application. She then hurried to the locker room to change for work.

When Grissom and Warrick returned to the lab with their evidence at the end of shift, Jim was waiting.

"Gil, the sheriff would like to meet with us about your request for a Sabbatical, I believe Ecklie will be there too."

"Right now, Jim? I have evidence to process."

"It will have to wait. Rick can take care of things."

"Let me grab my notes."

"Meet us in the Sheriff's office in 15 minutes; I'll inform them that you are here."

Grissom found the course proposals and teaching contracts in his briefcase. He glanced through them, quickly memorizing the relevant details. 15 minutes later he walked into the reception area outside the Sheriff's office, several floors up from the lab.

"They are expecting you, Dr. Grissom, go right in," said the sheriff's secretary.

"Thanks."

Three men – Sheriff Brian Mobley, Conrad Ecklie and Jim Brass – were seated at a round conference table in Mobley's office. The sheriff motioned Grissom to the opened seat.

"Gil, I hear that you want to leave us again," started Ecklie. Grissom addressed his response to the sheriff, ignoring Ecklie's remark.

"I have requested a three month sabbatical in order to teach in a new Law Enforcement program being created at the University of San Francisco. I have course proposals and tentative contracts to support the University's interest in having me teach as an adjunct professor." He handed the documents to Mobley who opened the folder and scanned them quickly.

"I see. Didn't you just return from an extended stay in San Francisco?" the sheriff asked.

Grissom answered, "I was only in San Francisco for a week, teaching at the Forensics Academy," he hesitated, "I was absent two weeks prior to that, one under suspension for not following safety protocols at a crime scene, and the other as personal time to prepare for the seminar."

Ecklie sneered, "You don't follow protocols and yet they want you to teach them?" Brass and Grissom both frowned at Ecklie, who only laughed in response.

"Gentlemen, leave your personal differences outside my office!" the sheriff corrected them.

"Jim," the sheriff continued, "How do you propose to address the issue of leadership for the night shift?"

Jim replied, "Catherine Willows is a highly competent CSI Level 3. She has worked closely with Gil in leading the night crew for several years now; she is fully capable of directing the team for the summer. I will keep close tabs on all of the cases and offer support as necessary."

"It will still leave you an investigator short," said Ecklie, "Don't expect Day shift to cover your leftovers for you! And sheriff, there's another reason that Grissom wants to return to San Francisco – a less professional one."

"Conrad, what are you accusing him of now? An illicit affair? Perhaps with a student? Be realistic, we're talking about Gilbert Grissom, not some Don Juan of detectives!" Mobley responded, putting Ecklie on notice that he was not interested in his nonsense. Brass resisted the urge to grin and Grissom stared at his hands.

"But, sir, I have a colleague in San Francisco that observed him with a young wo…" Ecklie tried again. A quick glare from the sheriff silenced him. Gil shifted in his seat nervously, an action that did not go unnoticed by Jim.

"Gil, three months seems like a long time. I can see two, but the August heat seems to bring out the worst in Las Vegas. We will need you here," the Sheriff concluded.

"Brian, may I respectfully point out the University has requested that Gil teach three courses? It is well known that he represents the Las Vegas Crime Lab – the second best lab in the country – it would enhance our national reputation to have him fulfill the complete contract, not just a portion of it," argued Jim Brass.

"Trying to play politics with me Jim?" Sheriff Mobley smiled, "I'll think about it and let you know. For now, Gil, plan on two months. I will approve that."

Grissom, Brass, and Ecklie rode the elevator back down to the lab. After Ecklie got off, Brass pulled Grissom aside.

"First Catherine and now Ecklie. I swear Gil; I'm beginning to believe them. You assured me there would be no trouble."

"There won't be," Grissom promised and then walked off.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28:**

A few days later, Sara picked up her mail. Along with the usual bills and junk, there was a package from Las Vegas and a letter from the San Francisco Police Department. Returning to her apartment, she fixed a salad and poured the last of the wine that Gil had brought. While she ate she stared at the SFPD letter.

"Oh come on Sidle," she said to herself, "What's the worst that could happen? You stay working with Dr. Collins?" She tore the envelope and rapidly opened the letter and read out loud, "We are pleased to offer you a position in the Crime Scene Investigation Division. Your transfer from the Coroner's Office will be effective Monday of next week. Please visit the Human Resources Department before Friday to complete the necessary paperwork." She smiled. She had been accepted! She couldn't wait to tell Grissom.

Sara had saved Gil's package until last, even though she knew what it was, she wanted to enjoy the process of receiving his gift. She noticed the handwritten address and ran her fingers across the text. He had written that. "Okay Sara, now you're becoming obsessed!" she thought to herself. She opened the padded envelope and removed the forensics book. It was well worn. As she looked through it, she noticed that there were notes and diagrams written in the margins. Flipping back to the beginning, she saw handwriting inside the front cover.

Sara,

I hope this book will help you become

the best CSI in San Francisco.

I have found it invaluable over the years.

I miss you deeply!

Love,

Gil

She looked at her watch. He should be waking up about now, she calculated. She had to thank him for the book and tell him her good news. She found her phone and dialed from memory.

"Grissom."

"Hi Gil, it's me," she began. He sounded tired; she hoped she hadn't woken him.

He turned his back to the scene, his voice was barely audible, "Hi Sara, it's good to hear your voice. Um, I'm at work. The mayor's niece is missing, and we're all working around the clock." His words were rushed.

"I'm sorry Gil, you sound exhausted! Do you want to call me when you are finished?"

"It might be days."

"Then I'll be quick. I received your book – thank you so much! Also, I was accepted by CSI – I start on Monday."

"Congratulations! I'll call as soon as I can so we can talk. I miss you."

"I miss you too! Good luck with the case. I love you!"

"Same here, um," he responded awkwardly, "I mean, I love you too." He closed his phone. He turned around to return to the scene and saw Catherine staring at him from across the room.

"I take it that wasn't Jim?" she asked. He looked back at her blankly.

"I'll find out who she is eventually, Gil. I know I'm not imagining the change in you," Catherine commented, then went back to work.

A month had passed since they said goodbye at the airport. Sara and Gil fell into a rhythm of work, sleep, and phone calls when possible. Detective Simons had never resolved the Webster homicide, so Grissom's testimony wasn't needed. Sara knew there were clues that weren't being followed, but it was assigned to Simons, so she had to leave it alone. Dr. Collins' letter sealed Sara's rapid acceptance into CSI, and she had started training a week after the seminar. She had been assigned to swing shift, which made communication between the two of them even more difficult, but they managed to chat once or twice a week.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29:**

It was nearing the end of another shift and Sara was searching the database for matching fingerprints. Most of the evidence had been processed, but they still did not have a good lead. She was afraid that they would set the case aside unless she could find something more. She hated when they couldn't solve a crime – especially when it involved the beating and rape of a child. She suspected the uncle, but she had no way of proving it…. She would work through the night, if that's what it took to nail the guy.

While she worked she thought about her first three weeks in the CSI department. Her first week had been spent in the lab, but they had eventually allowed her to go into the field and help process crime scenes.

Grissom's notes helped her progress quickly in her training. The forensics' text, with his handwriting in the margins highlighting improvements in procedures and alternate interpretations of evidence, also proved valuable. When not at work, sleeping, or talking on the phone, she studied. Reading his handwritten notes helped her to feel connected with him.

The flashing of the computer screen hesitated as it processed a possible match. Sara focused on it, hoping, but then the computer continued, no match. She went back to her reflections. She had passed her field competency, and had been promoted to CSI Level 1 at the end of her third week – record time. Her supervisor was encouraging, but her colleagues were not. Her coworkers resented her quick advancement. They also seemed to resent having to work with an intelligent woman.

"Sara, Mark, we have a new scene," the swing shift Supervisor, Dale Canyon called from the hallway, "Meet me in my office in 5."

Leaving the computer search processing, Sara gathered her remaining evidence and made sure everything was properly secured and stored. She would check back on the search after they returned from this new scene.

"There is a female dead body in a small wooded area on the edge of town, here's the address," Dale said as he handed the address to Mark. "It's an older neighborhood, semi-rural. The neighboring houses are probably too far away to be helpful, but still check for witnesses. The responding officer is waiting for you."

Mark drove the CSI SUV to the crime scene in an uneasy silence. Sara waited for the sarcastic comments to begin, hoping they wouldn't. When they arrived at the scene, Mark quickly jumped out of the vehicle, snatching his notebook from the backseat.

"Sara, you process the crime scene alone this time, I'll check the perimeter and canvass the nearby houses," Mark ordered as he walked off into the night.

Sara felt relieved when Mark left, she did not like dealing with his attitude. She grabbed her kit and walked over to the squad car.

"Sara Sidle, CSI, what do we have here?"

"Officer Murphy, nice to meet you Ms. Sidle. The victim is across the grass lawn, under that large tree. A man was jogging with his dog this evening when the dog discovered the body."

"Officer Murphy, did you walk over to the victim?"

"Yes, I had to check to confirm that she was dead. I tried to be careful in order to preserve the scene."

"Thanks, I appreciate that. I'll need to take impressions from your shoes and from the witness who found the body. Is he still around here?"

"No, he's down at the station giving a formal statement."

"Okay. I'll call the lab and have someone take his shoe impressions."

Sara pulled out her light meter and camera, measured the available light, and took a few establishing shots of the park. She took photos and ink prints of Officer Murphy's boots. She then prepared to cross the grass to the crime scene. She knelt down and shined her flashlight across the grass towards the tree that the police officer pointed out. The grass was well groomed, and two foot paths were evident in the light. Sara photographed each of the paths carefully. She then chose an area of grass that was undisturbed and created her own path towards the scene, marking her route with crime scene tape. The process still felt a bit stilted, like she was running through a to-do list, but she was becoming more comfortable. There was still no sign of Mark. That was good; she'd be able to gather evidence in peace, without his constant criticism of her methods.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30:

In San Francisco, April showers might bring May flowers. But in the Las Vegas desert, all May seemed to sprout was more crime. As temperatures began to build towards summer, tempers also seemed to rise. Grissom and Catherine were working a home invasion homicide; Nick and Warrick were retrieving a body dump in the desert. They were still short handed, so Jim was working on recruiting some new CSI's.

Grissom and Willows finished cordoning off the house and nearby property.

"Catherine, you take the perimeter, I'll start on the scene inside," directed Grissom.

"Will do, I'll come in to help when I'm finished," replied Catherine.

Grissom put on protective gloves and began his careful approach to the front door, taking photographs and examining the walkway as he went. He checked the front patio for footprints, and the front door for finger and hand prints. Once inside he continued to follow protocol, photographing and processing the path to the victims. He found the elderly couple in their bedroom. There were signs of a brief struggle; the husband lay crumpled on the floor, the wife still in the bed. Cause of death was not immediately apparent, but he suspected blunt force trauma – the autopsies would tell. He stood at the door of the room, taking establishing photographs and then tape recording a descriptive narrative of the scene, noting everything visible from the door. He again checked for footprints and fingerprints around the doorway before proceeding.

Catherine was being equally careful as she processed the outside of the house. She found a broken window and some partial footprints in the sand – a possible point of entry or exit. She photographed the area, including creating close-ups of the prints. She would create dental stone impressions later. In the bushes she discovered a metal pipe with glass fragments in the threads. She tested it for human blood and saw the telltale red of a positive result. She bagged it as a possible murder weapon. It was going to be a good night. The evidence was telling its story as she worked.

Sara worked her way to the edge of the grass, taking more photos of the crime scene: several clear sets of footprints, human and canine, were in the dirt and leaves around the area. She pulled out her mini tripod and began to photograph the footprints nearest to her position. She held her flashlight at an angle to create the best contrast of the ridges of the soles.

She needed to find a path to the body that did not disturb the evidence. She worked her way carefully around the crime scene, so that she could approach the body from the woods, marking her path with reflective tape. On and around the victim's body, she gathered evidence carefully, but efficiently. This part of the process she was familiar with from her work as αssistant coroner. She released the body to the new αssistant coroner, who had followed her cleared path to and from the crime scene. After his departure, she returned to her search.

This was how Sara preferred to work, slowly, meticulously, and alone – no one telling her what to do, or making fun of her obsessive care to preserve evidence. She knew the pain of being a victim, she felt driven to be the voice through which the evidence spoke. She also knew how a rush to judgment could hurt the innocent. The guys at CSI did not understand, not even her supervisor. They ridiculed her and her thoroughness. She dreamed of working someday for someone who would accept her as she was; someone who would respect her ideas and her passion for the truth – someone like Gilbert Grissom. For the millionth time that day, her mind wandered back to their time together. It had been so brief, but she felt like she had known him all her life – that she needed to be with him for the rest of her life. What was she thinking! She needed to concentrate on her investigation, not daydream like some high school science geek with a crush on the starting quarterback!

In the earliest light of dawn, Sara finished gathering the evidence and returned to the CSI vehicle. She found Mark asleep in the driver's seat, the seat back fully reclined. "Jerk," she thought as she stowed her evidence and kit in the back of the SUV and slammed the door.

Mark jumped, and then reset his seat, "It's about time. Think you got enough junk for the lab?"

"Evidence, Mark, not junk. Did any of the neighbors see or hear anything?" Sara asked.

"No, it was as quiet as could be," Mark said, "Great place for sleeping. Too bad for the woman in the park."

Mark put the SUV in gear and began driving back to the lab. They passed a couple of women jogging down the street towards the park.

"Wow, look at the bounce on that one! What do you think Sidle, is she your type?" Mark asked.

"Just drive," Sara stated.

"What took so long anyway? Have trouble finding the body?" he chuckled.

Sara held her temper, barely. Her instincts told her that the murder was the result of domestic violence – or at least male on female violence – which she had a special hatred for…. Now she had to tolerate this idiot's insolent comments.

They drove in a hostile silence, finally broken by the vibrating buzz of a phone in Sara's pocket.

Grissom had finished his shift. No one else seemed to be around so he decided to risk a phone call to Sara. They hadn't been able to talk for almost a week, and he missed hearing her voice. The phone rang.

"Sidle," her anger transferred into her voice.

Grissom heard it and hesitated before greeting her, "Hi Honey it's me, um, is this a bad time?"

Sara's anger quickly fled when she heard his voice, he always knew when she needed him!

"Hi Babe, yeah, I'm still at work – we had a late call and the scene took all night to process," she replied. Mark snickered at Sara's affectionate greeting. Gil heard the sound and understood her earlier anger.

"Oh, I won't keep you then, I just needed to hear your voice. Call me when you can, please?"

"It's good to hear you too. I'll call you when I get home."

"I'll stay up for awhile then… Bye."

"Bye."

"You shouldn't be taking calls from your girlfriend on the department cell," Mark criticized. Sara shook her head; this jerk wasn't worth her time. She didn't bother to correct Gil's gender, she knew the truth and that was all that mattered.

"It's my personal cell, I carry both with me. Besides, it's well passed the end of our shift."

They finished the drive in silence. Sara logged in her new evidence, quickly checked the computer for fingerprint results on her previous case – none – and headed home.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31:**

It had been two weeks since Sara had completed her solo crime scene. She had found a suspect, and turned the evidence over to the District Attorney for prosecution. Mark had complained about having to work with Sara, so she moved to night shift without a protest. Mark thought he had won, but Sara and Gil now had more time in common. Sara looked up his address online and memorized the route, contemplating taking a few days off to surprise him. Unfortunately, as the newest member of the team she knew it wouldn't be possible for a long time.

Tonight, at the beginning of shift, Sara, and her new colleagues Nate, a CSI Level 1 like herself, and Colin, CSI level 2, had been called to a scene with four bodies. It was thought to be domestic violence: triple murder, suicide. It appeared to be a straight forward case, there seemed little question about what happened. Unfortunately, they still needed to process the scene to make sure.

"The husband's body is in the family room, the wife's body is in the master bedroom, and the two children are in the smaller bedroom at the back of the house," the responding officer finished his brief.

Colin said, "I'll take the family room. Nate, you take the master bedroom and Sara you cover the smaller bedroom. Just the basics guys, if anything doesn't fit our understanding of what happened let me know."

Sara retrieved her kit and started through the house, noting that no one had bothered to cordon it off. Police officers, paramedics and CSI tromped through without regard for evidence. She shook her head and walked down the hallway to the children's room. As she passed through the family room, she glanced at the man's body slumped on the couch, blood covered his chest and neck. Something stirred deep in her memory. She looked in the first bedroom down the hallway, a woman's body lay on the bed, her face bruised, blood pooled under her wrists. The carefully built wall that had protected her over the years started to crumble. She reached the children's bedroom. Girls: two little girls. Voices began arguing in her mind. Looking at their bodies they appeared to be about 6 and 9 years old. The older girl's body had fallen over her younger sister, almost protectively.

The phantom voices got louder, "Daddy, stop. Daddy you're hurting her! Daddy please."

She saw the room in front of her, and yet she saw another room, another house.

"Daddy, stop hitting mommy. Please, you're hurting her!"

"Shut up or you'll be next!"

"I'll be next anyway," the girl screamed, "So leave her alone!" The man reached over and struck her savagely across the face. Sara heard the woman screaming and the girl crying. A man's drunken voice battered their hearts, his fists pummeled their bodies. Sara started shaking with terror. In her mind, she ran to hide from the rage. The closet wasn't safe enough; she needed to run further away from their screams. Sara whimpered.

"Sara, are you alright?" asked Colin from the doorway. She looked up, wondering who he was and why he was in her childhood home.

"Sara?" She walked passed him running out of the house. She fled down the sidewalk and into the night. When she could no longer breathe from running, she looked around. She walked to the corner, flagged a cab and climbed in.

"Where to miss?" asked the cab driver. Sara didn't respond. He recognized her CSI jacket and decided he should take her back to the crime lab. She was obviously shaken by something.

As she rode, her mind descended into itself once again. She didn't remember getting out of the cab, or paying, but she must have. She climbed into her car and started driving. East then South, her mind replayed the directions. She needed to find someplace safe.

In her mind the voices kept yelling, "You're drunk again, leave us alone."

"Stop nagging me or I'll kill you! I'll kill you both!"

"Don't come into this house!"

"It's my house; I'll come in any time I want." And then the slamming door, fists hitting flesh, screaming, moans of pain, crying.

"Daddy, please stop it!" She ran to her mother's side as she lay on the floor bleeding. Her father reached down and grabbed her by the back of her blouse.

"You little bίtch, you're just like her!" She let her blouse slide off over her skinny shoulders as she ran out the back door and into the darkness. Branches brushed against her, swiping at her tear streaked face and her bare arms as she dashed down the familiar path. Scene after scene played through her mind – always ending with the man's bloody chest, and the woman's bloody wrists.

In the early dawn, she stopped for gas off Interstate 15 near the Nevada border. At about eight o'clock in the morning she pulled in front of a row of townhouses and turned off the engine. Physically exhausted and emotionally drained, she leaned back in her seat and fell into a deep sleep.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32:**

Grissom's night had been unusually slow, allowing him time to process paperwork

Grissom's night had been unusually slow, allowing him time to process paperwork. He hated when he couldn't avoid bureaucratic obligations by blaming his heavy case load. On the other hand, it meant he wouldn't have to work yet another double shift. He had let the others go home an hour early, for which they had been grateful.

While he drove home, he thought about his team. Catherine was his partner in solving crime, though not in any more personal way. While she was admittedly beautiful and he enjoyed watching her dancer's body, she was not his type or he hers. Warrick and Nick were like sons to him. He liked to challenge them, molding their investigative minds through questions and advice.

He wondered how Sara would fit on his team. Her active mind would blend in nicely. She and Catherine might clash – they were both so driven. Nick and Warrick would treat her well, not like the guys in San Francisco. He could see them acting protectively as her older brothers. He shuddered, bad image! That would make her his daughter. He abandoned the family metaphor. His feelings for her were clearly not fatherly.

When he arrived home, his thoughts were on Sara, wondering how her night had been, and what she was doing now. When he saw her car, he thought it was a mirage. He parked and then looked back again. It was her car, it had California license plates. What was she doing here? They had talked on the phone right before shift began – she had been scheduled to work all night as well.

Setting his briefcase on the driveway, he walked quickly towards her car. Seeing Sara asleep behind the wheel, he detoured to the driver's side, his head tilted to the side in curiosity. He didn't want to startle her, but he didn't see many options. He knocked on her window, calling her name softly. She stirred and looked at him, clearly scared, but not at seeing him. She opened her door and looked up into his face.

"Gil?" she asked hesitantly, "How did you get here?" Now he was truly concerned, didn't she realize that she had driven to Las Vegas? He helped her out of the car and she collapsed in his arms. He noticed that she was still wearing her CSI jacket and uniform. Something wasn't right. He lifted her into his arms, softly kicked the car door shut, and carried her to his front landing. Balancing her carefully, he grabbed the keys from his pocket, unlocked the door, and carried her inside. He gently laid her down on the couch, removing her jacket and shoes and covering her with a throw blanket. Then, he went back out to retrieve his briefcase and to lock the cars.

Back in the living room, he watched her sleep on his couch. How many mornings had he fallen asleep toying with the image of her sleeping in his home? But this reality was so different. What should he do? He could call Catherine, she might know. But he didn't want anyone to know about Sara yet, especially Catherine. He was still too emotionally out of control around her. He was afraid that they would lose respect for him, seeing him like that. In the end, he decided it would be best to let her sleep, and to figure out what to do when she woke up. He sat down on the floor by the couch, kicked off his shoes, and pulled a corner of the blanket over himself. He watched her body and face twitch as she fought off her invisible demons. He drifted off to sleep, longing to hold and comfort her, but too uncertain to act.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33:**

A short time later, the vibration of Grissom's phone woke him from his shallow sleep.

"Grissom," he answered, whispering. He quietly rolled away from the couch and stood up, walking far enough away to talk.

"Dr. Grissom, I'm sorry to disturb you but Sara's missing. The police have tracked her through her credit card to a gas station on the southern Nevada border. I thought she might have headed your way."

"Dr. Collins? What happened?" Grissom asked, not recognizing the voice, but not aware of anyone else who would know to call him.

"Yes, it's Collins. Sara left a crime scene suddenly, without explanation. The department is very concerned. Have you heard from her?"

"Is this call out of friendship for Sara or for the department?" Grissom wasn't sure who to trust, but he knew something awful had happened to Sara.

"For Sara. Dr. Grissom, if she is there, please..."

"Yes, she's here. She was parked outside my house this morning when I returned from work. She was very disoriented, I helped her out of her car and carried her inside. She's sleeping peacefully now, though when she first arrived she seemed to be struggling against nightmares."

"Let me cancel the APB circulating for her, and then I'll call you back." Grissom hung up and walked back to the living room to check on Sara. She still slept, though the lines of tension on her face had not relaxed. What could have caused her to drive through the night? His phone vibrated in his pocket. Walking back towards his kitchen, he answered it.

"Grissom."

"Dr. Grissom, Collins here. What I am about to tell you is confidential. To my knowledge, Sara has never shared this with anyone, including me. I know the story because I was a part of it."

"Dr. Collins, if it will help me know what to do, I need to hear it. You'll have to trust me."

"About 16 years ago there was a murder north of San Francisco. The body of a man in his early 40's was brought in, multiple stab wounds to his neck and chest. His blood alcohol level was between 2 and 3 times the legal limit. He had been killed by his wife in response to years of abuse. The wife was hospitalized with deep self-inflicted slashing wounds to her wrists. Their 10 year old daughter was missing. The police found evidence that the girl had been in the house at the time of the attack – her handprints in both parents' blood were on the back door. They began searching the area, eventually bringing in dogs to track her. She was found two days later in a small cave about 5 miles from her home."

"Sara?" Gil interrupted, recognizing the cave from his last day in San Francisco.

"Yes. She was suffering from hypothermia and emotional shock; blood splatter covered her face, hair, and clothes. When she recovered physically, they placed her in foster care. Her mother was convicted of murder and sent to a mental hospital."

"You performed the autopsy on her father?"

"Yes. My youngest daughter is about Sara's age, so the tragedy struck close to home. I have kept track of her since then – from foster home to foster home, then to Harvard and Berkeley. Imagine my surprise when I looked up from my desk one day and saw her."

"So what happened at work last night?" Grissom asked quietly, still shaken by the story.

"I didn't hear about it until I arrived this morning. Sara and her colleagues had been called to investigate the scene of an apparent triple murder suicide. A woman had stabbed her husband repeatedly in the chest and neck, and then cut her wrists. Their two young girls had also been killed. The scene bore an eerie resemblance to Sara's childhood home. Apparently, it brought back the horror of that night."

"God help her…" Gil whispered, and then said to Collins, "What should I do?"

"Right now she needs to feel safe. When she wakes up, comfort her, listen to her if she wants to talk, but don't pressure her. The department will require her to have counseling before she can return, but her health and happiness are most important to me."

"Dr. Collins, thank you for telling me all of this. I won't say anything to her – I'll wait until she's ready to tell me herself. At least now I have an idea of what to do."

"Take care of her, Dr. Grissom, she's a survivor…"

Grissom hung up the phone and returned to the living room. This was not going to be resolved quickly; Sara needed to sleep and to heal. He remembered their afternoon in her safe cave. Perhaps she would feel the same safety if he held her as he had that day. He climbed the stairs to his bedroom, cleared the books off of his bed, and straightened the bedding. He went back to the living room, carefully picked Sara up, and carried her to his bed. After covering her with the sheet and blanket, he climbed in next to her, still fully clothed, and drew her into his arms. She stirred briefly, whispered his name, snuggled close, and fell into a deep restful sleep. His breathing soon slowed as he too fell asleep.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34:**

Hunger woke Gil. He glanced at the clock, 1:15pm. Sara was still asleep. He thought about Dr. Collins' story. He was not going to be able to leave her to go to work. He did not want her to be alone in a strange house. He had promised Jim that nothing would interfere, but he had not counted on being needed this desperately. He eased his arm from under Sara's head and slowly climbed out of bed. She murmured, but did not wake. He walked outside the bedroom door into the hallway and called the lab. He left a message for Jim that he would not be in for work. He didn't give a reason and they didn't ask, since he never called in, they assumed he must be really sick. He hadn't eaten anything since dinner the previous night. Sara was sleeping, so he gambled and went to the kitchen to prepare some coffee and food.

"No, please stop it!" Sara screamed, "You're hurting me!"

Gil raced back up the stairs to her.

"Daddy, stop please…" Sara whimpered. Her body was shaking, she wept and gasped for air; she held her arms in front of her face. Gil tried to hold her, to comfort her, but she struck him repeatedly, painfully in the chest and arms, defending herself. He knelt on the floor in front of her.

"Sara, it's me, Gil," he spoke gently to her. "Sara, you're safe now, no one is going to hurt you…" he talked in low soothing tones, as he had heard Jim do in crisis situations. Slowly she began to calm down, allowing him to sit next to her and place his arm around her. He kept talking, gently waking her from her terror.

"Gil?" she whispered, "How did you get here?"

"Sara, don't you remember? You drove to Las Vegas last night, you're at my house."

"No, I couldn't have… I can't be… I have to go to work." Apparently she had blocked the crime scene from her conscious mind. He was not going to remind her, but he didn't know what to say.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. She realized that she was and they walked downstairs together to find food.

"I've never been here before, where am I?" she asked as they descended the stairs into the living room.

"You're in my house in Las Vegas," Gil answered patiently. She was too confused to understand. Gil fixed some coffee and warmed up some stew that he had made before work the previous night. He guided her to the dining room table, and then returned to the kitchen for the stew and coffee. They ate in silence. Sara looked around the living room at everything.

"This is your home," she finally said, "It looks like you." He looked around at the shelves of books, the simple, comfortable furniture, his pet tarantula's terrarium, the framed insect collections, the photographs of his CSI team and his parents. He saw it through Sara's eyes, it was uniquely him. He turned back to her – she was becoming more coherent.

"Sara, do you remember anything about last night?" he asked gently. She shook her head from side to side.

"I must have driven here, Gil, but I don't remember anything."

"That's okay. I've taken tonight off, so we have plenty of time." They finished eating in silence. Gil gathered the dirty dishes and carried them to the sink. He was afraid to ask anything that might unsettle her again, but he needed to know what to do. Gil sat back down at the table and covered Sara's hand with his own. He looked into her eyes.

"Sara, would you like to talk to someone? I mean, a professional, someone trained to help?" he asked tentatively.

Sara looked down, uncertain, "Maybe I should. I've never lost so many hours before. I really don't remember a thing."

"I'll call someone and see what I can arrange. I'm worried about you." Gil brushed Sara's hair from her eyes. She grabbed his hand and hugged it to her cheek. Tears filled her eyes and streamed down her face.

"I know I'm safe now, but I'm still trembling inside. Why am I so scared?" Gil took her hand and led her to the couch. They sat down and she snuggled into his arms.

"I don't know, Sara, but you are safe here with me." Feeling secure, she dozed off again. Gil took out his cell phone, called the police department and asked for the phone number for the Victim's Advocacy Program. He dialed the number, briefly described the situation, and asked if anyone would be available to talk to Sara that afternoon. They talked back and forth to figure out who would be best suited to counsel Sara. He gave them his address, and made an appointment for someone to come to his home around 4:30pm. Hanging up, he kissed Sara hair, drawing her closer into his arms.

"I wish I could have been there to protect you as a child," he whispered quietly.

He lifted Sara carefully, and shifted their positions so that he reclined on the couch with her lying next to him, resting against him, her head on his shoulder. He drifted towards sleep, reflecting on Sara's life. What would it have been like to grow up with constant fear and abuse? To watch your mother stab your father, and then attempt to take her own life? To cower, covered in blood, in a cave in the cool, damp San Francisco climate, alone, helpless, terrified for two days and nights? He couldn't even imagine. He had thought his father's indifference to him had been bad, but his childhood had been heavenly by comparison. His breathing slowed and he eased into a dream.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35:**

A ringing doorbell invaded Grissom's dream. Waking, he realized the counselor must have arrived. Sara was stirring as well.

"We'll be right there!" he called towards the door, not wanting them to leave.

"Sara, wake up, I need to get the door." Sara shifted to the side, allowing him to slip from under her, and sit up. He quickly walked to the door and answered it. There was a pleasant looking blond woman, perhaps in her mid 40's, standing on the landing.

"Dr. Grissom?" she began, "I'm Sally Phillips, Victim's Advocates."

"It's nice to meet you, um, it's doctor, isn't it?"

"Yes, I am the director of the Victim's Advocates' counseling program."

"Dr. Phillips. Please come in." He opened the door wider, and she walked in.

"I didn't expect for you to come personally," Grissom commented.

Dr. Phillips smiled, "I have received calls from members of your team before, but never you. Frankly, I was curious what was significant enough for you to be personally involved. Then again, the situation you described presented quite a puzzle and I like puzzles."

Sara was standing by the couch, watching the woman enter and listening to their conversation.

"Sara, this is Dr. Sally Phillips, she's a counselor, um, used to working with traumatic situations," Gil explained. Sara walked towards them and extended her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Dr. Phillips, thank you for coming so quickly. I don't like feeling this scared and confused," Sara confessed.

"Dr. Grissom seemed very distressed, I was glad to make arrangements to see you right away."

"Um, can I get you anything?" Grissom asked, "I'm not really sure what happens now."

Dr. Phillips smiled, "Sara would you be comfortable talking here in the living room?"

Sara nodded, and then glanced at Grissom.

Sensing her uncertainty, he offered, "Sara, would you like for me to go upstairs while you talk?"

"Do you mind Gil? I hate to kick you out of your own living room," Sara said.

Gil smiled, "You're welcome to it anytime. Dr. Phillips, Sara, call me if you need anything." Grissom retreated upstairs to his combined bedroom and office. He took the opportunity to call Collins back and request that he fax a copy of the police report and investigative files from Sara's family tragedy to his home machine. He then turned his focus to preparing for his summer courses. There were only a few more weeks until he returned to San Francisco to teach.

Downstairs, Sara and Dr. Phillips sat down on the sofa. Dr. Phillips took a notebook and pen from her briefcase.

"Sara, why am I here? I've heard Dr. Grissom's concerns, but I would like to hear from you."

"Apparently, I went to work last night, then left the scene and drove to Las Vegas, but I don't remember doing it. All I remember is driving to work and then waking up here this afternoon. Nothing in between," Sara informed the counselor.

"I'm going to ask a few basic questions, so that we can become more comfortable talking with one another, and then we'll focus more on this specific event. Okay?"

"That's fine."

"Where do you normally live?" Dr. Phillips asked.

"San Francisco."

"Did you grow up there?"

"Yes, in a small town north of there."

"What type of work do you do?"

"Until a few weeks ago, I worked as an αssistant coroner, now I'm a CSI level 1."

"Why did you change careers?" Dr. Phillips asked.

"I wanted to be more involved in the entire investigation, not just the autopsy."

"But dissecting bodies didn't bother you?"

"No, I'm a scientist, it was necessary in order to find answers for the survivors."

Dr. Phillips set her pen down and commented, "Sara, your work and mine have something in common. We both work for the survivors of tragic events."

Sara nodded her agreement, but added, "I'd also like to speak for those who don't survive."

"One last question before we begin looking at last night. You drove almost 600 miles, without being aware of doing it, and you ended up at Dr. Grissom's home. Why here?"

Sara looked at her hands, thinking about how to answer that question. Dr. Phillips allowed her time to think, without interruption.

"I know it may seem unlikely, but Dr. Grissom and I are friends, close friends. I feel safe when I am with him." Sara thought back to their hike near her childhood home. The ghosts had been silent. She wanted to keep them silent. Sara made a decision to reveal the truth about her past. Maybe then she could find some peace. If she waited until she spoke to the police department counselor in San Francisco, she might lose her career. Talking now might allow her to find answers without as much risk.

Sara continued, "About six weeks ago, Gil and I were hiking in an area near where I grew up. I don't usually go there, because of the, um, ghosts of my parents, but I wanted to share the beauty of the scenery with him. I remember that day clearly. For the first time in nearly twenty years, the voices were silent. Somehow, Gil's presence kept me safe. That must be why I came here. I needed to feel safe."

"Your parents are both dead? How did they die?" Dr. Phillips asked. Usually she was not this forward, but Sara's boldness with her answers, and her unusual career choices, led Dr. Phillips to believe she could take a rather direct route.

Sara again looked down. She had never said these words out loud to anyone. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and spoke rapidly, "My father was an alcoholic. He was severely abusive. He was violent to both my mother and me. One day he came home drunk and violent. My mother was preparing dinner and had a cooking knife in her hands. She screamed and ran at him, stabbing him over and over in the chest and neck. I ran and hid in the bedroom closet. I heard my mother weeping, calling my name, but I was afraid to come out. Eventually, I peeked out from the closet and I saw her on the bed. Her wrists were bloody. I ran to her, but she wasn't moving. I don't remember anything more." She paused and then finished, "I've never told anyone about this before."


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36:**

Dr. Phillips was silent. Grissom had indicated that something tragic from childhood may have resurfaced, but he didn't give any details. Usually it took many sessions to get this sort of revelation.

"Think back to last night, Sara. Do you remember anything about the crime scene that may have triggered these memories?"

"The memories are always with me. What I avoid are the feelings that go with them. When I hear the voices, I have to leave; I have to find somewhere safe." Images began to flash through Sara's mind. A man covered with blood, a woman lying on a bed, her wrists shredded. But they weren't her parents. Who were they?

"What sort of feelings do these voices evoke?" Dr. Phillips asked.

Sara thought, shuddered, and responded, "Sheer terror. My body starts quaking from the inside. I can't breathe, I have to run away." She began to hear the voices again.

"Daddy, stop hitting her, Daddy, no!" The doctor saw the change in her body, the glazing in her eyes.

"Sara," she spoke softly, "You're safe here. No one is going to hurt you. You're at Dr. Grissom's home, he won't let anyone hurt you, and neither will I." She pulled out her cell phone and quickly dialed Grissom's number. She asked him to come downstairs.

When he arrived, he recognized the look in Sara's eyes, the rigidity and defensive posture of her body.

"What happened?" he asked.

"We were talking and I think we came too close to her pain. You're more familiar to her, she may respond to you. Can you help?"

"I'll try." He sat on the sofa next to Sara and spoke soothingly to her, "Sara, it's me, Gil. Can I hold you to keep you safe?" Sara looked over at him with vague recognition, her arms went quickly around his neck, and she buried her face against his shoulder crying. He stroked her hair, and continued whispering to her in calming tones. The tears slowed. After a few minutes, she sat up and wiped her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," she apologized.

"We were talking about the voices, and the feelings that come with them. Do you remember?" Dr. Phillips asked gently.

Sara nodded, then burrowed into Gil's arms before speaking, "I was in my home, and my father was hitting my Mom. I couldn't get him to stop. Then he started coming after me, so I ran."

"Sara, I know this is hard, but do you remember anything about last night that might have caused these voices to return?"

She remembered the officer's words, "The husband's body is in the family room, the wife's body is in the master bedroom, and the two children are in the smaller bedroom at the back of the house." She shared these words with Dr. Phillips.

Sara continued, "The scene was too familiar, I remember that now, it reminded me of my home. Dr. Phillips, I can't be a CSI if crime scenes cause me to crash emotionally and run away. Please, can we start over and find a way to take the power out of these memories? I only have a few days here, and then I will have to return home and face my supervisor."

"I think that would be a good idea. We still have some time tonight, and we can talk again before you leave. You won't have complete resolution, but we can at least make a small start."

They agreed to meet again the following afternoon. Sara assured Gil that she was okay, so he went back upstairs. Then Dr. Phillips started over by examining Sara's childhood and her feelings about herself and her parents. In the few days left, they would only be able to scratch the surface, but maybe it would be enough to allow Sara to cope with her extreme emotional responses to domestic violence. She would need to seek additional help when she returned to San Francisco.

After Dr. Phillips left, Sara climbed the stairs to the second floor. From the doorway to the bedroom, she watched Grissom working at his desk. She walked quietly across the room towards him. He sensed her coming, and swiveled his chair expectantly. She sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Thank you Gil," she said and then kissed him. He returned her kiss, wrapping his arms protectively around her.

Rumbling stomachs reminded them that it was time for dinner. Grissom rummaged around in his refrigerator and cabinets; he made sandwiches and warmed some soup. They talked of everyday things while they ate.

"We need to go shopping tomorrow," he said, "You need to buy some clothes to change into, and I'm sure there are other things you need. We also need groceries."

"Do you have something that I could wear so that I can at least wash the clothes I have on?" she asked.

"Everything of mine would be too big, but I'll find something." He went upstairs and a few minutes later returned with a t-shirt and some sweat pants.

"Let me get a quick shower, and then we can wash my clothes for tomorrow," Sara said. She took the clothes Gil offered and went back up to the master bath. While she was gone, he gathered, washed, and put away the dishes. He brewed some herbal tea and prepared a plate of fresh, raw vegetables to snack on. Sara came back down the stairs in his sweats and t-shirt, her wet hair curling as it began to dry. They tossed her clothes in the wash machine, and then settled down on the couch in the living room.

"You don't have to tell me anything more if you don't want to, but was it helpful to talk to Dr. Phillips?" Grissom asked.

Sara thought, telling her story to a stranger, a professional, was one thing, but telling the complete story to Grissom was another. He already knew about the abuse, he had learned of that while comforting her, but Sara didn't want him thinking she came from a family of freaks. She would take the easy way out for now, and not tell him anything more.

"Yes, it was helpful," Sara answered simply. Grissom accepted her answer at face value. He knew there was more to the story – thanks to Collins – and he recognized how hard it would be to share such a thing with him. His childhood held few traumas. His father was a workaholic, but he was not abusive. He died when Grissom was a child, but he was not murdered. His mother was deaf, but she was not in a prison mental ward. At ever turn, her story was more painful – impossibly painful. Yet she had survived to become an amazing woman. He would accept her silence, as he wished others would accept his.

"You were supposed to work tonight, weren't you?" Sara asked.

"Yes, but I didn't want you to be alone your first night in town. We were between cases anyway." They had been apart for 6 weeks, talking only once or twice a week, as they had been able. Sara had launched a new career, and Gil had begun preparing to teach formal college courses for the first time. They had many things to share and talk about, as long as they steered away from anything too personal. Both were used to working nights, so they talked until the early hours of the morning. Finally, their eyes began to droop, and Gil suggested it was time to go to bed. They went upstairs. Gil grabbed a spare pillow and an extra blanket, along with his pajamas.

"I'll sleep on the couch. Will you be okay up here?" he asked.

Sara started to protest, but then realized the timing was not right – her emotional wounds were too raw, she answered, "I'll be fine."

Gil kissed her gently, "Well, I'll see you in the morning then, goodnight, Sara."

"Goodnight, Gil," Sara returned his kiss and climbed into his bed. He turned off the light, went back downstairs and tried to get comfortable on the couch. Eventually, they both fell asleep.

A blood curdling scream tore through the house.

"No, Daddy, stop it, you're hurting her!" Sara cried. Gil woke and rushed upstairs. Obviously, the nightmare was back.

"Daddy, stop hitting Mommy!" Gil ran to her. Once again she had her arms covering her head defensively.

"Sara, it's me," Gil tried to wake her from her pain. She was too deeply into the horror. As he came closer, she lashed out, hitting him with her fists. Her fear made her strong, and the blows were increasingly painful.

"Daddy, please stop, I promise I'll be good, Daddy you're hurting me!"

He began again, "Sara, you're safe now; It's Gil. You're with me. I won't let anyone hurt you anymore." He continued talking, his voice low and soothing, his words compassionate and comforting. She stopped punching him in the chest, her arms fell to her sides, and she finally woke. Tears flowed from her eyes.

"I'm sorry Gil, I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have involved you in my messed up life," she apologized. Gil placed his arm around her shoulder and drew her close.

"Sara, I'm glad you came here." He knew that she wasn't ready to be alone.

"Come on, let's lay back down. I'll hold you so that you'll feel safe." She soaked his pajama top in her tears as she cried herself back to sleep in his arms.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37:**

Gil and Sara woke in the late morning. Grissom stretched, wincing as his muscles complained. He excused himself, grabbed some clean clothes, and went into the bathroom. As he undressed to take his shower, he noticed significant bruises developing on his chest and arms. He'd have to wear long sleeves for a few days. He showered quickly and then dressed. The bedroom was empty when he came out, so he headed down the stairs.

"Sara?" he called.

She replied from the kitchen, "I'm in here, Gil." Sara was dressed and looked ready to go. Apparently, she had retrieved her clothes from the laundry and used the half bath downstairs to prepare for the day. Searching through the pantry, she had discovered some boxes of cereal.

"Breakfast isn't fancy, but it's ready," she said. She seemed to be avoiding eye contact, perhaps still embarrassed by her violent nightmare. Gil walked over to her, and gently lifted her chin. He then brushed her hair away from her eyes so that he could see them clearly. As he gazed into them, he saw pain and doubt.

"Sara, you don't need to be afraid of me," he began, "I care for you, I would never intentionally hurt you." He caressed her cheek, easing his hand into her hair, drawing her forward into a gentle kiss. She pulled back, and looked deeply into his eyes. The love that she had seen in San Francisco was still there. Perhaps he hadn't been chased away by her strange behavior.

"Gil, doesn't it frighten you to have someone so unstable in your home?" she asked.

"No, because you're not unstable, you're healing. Healing takes time."

"It seems all you've had time for since I've been here is holding me while I sleep. Doesn't that get old?"

Gil smiled, "How could I tire of holding the woman I love?"

Sara shook her head, "Maybe you're the one who needs counseling if you can still love me after all that's happened."

He shrugged, "My team has suggested that more than once. I accept you as you are. Is that so bad?"

"No, just unusual."

They ate their breakfast and left for a day of shopping.

Sara needed to spend some time in the women's department, looking for clothes and other necessities. Approaching the lingerie department, Grissom realized he wasn't ready for such familiarity in public.

"Sara, I have some other shopping to do. Would you mind if I left you here for awhile?"

Sara smiled, recognizing his discomfort, "I'll be at least an hour. Do you want to meet back here?" Agreeing quickly, Grissom fled to the entrance of the store.

He wandered the mall window shopping from store to store. A children's store display caught his eye. He smiled at the idea that formed in his mind. He went inside and asked the clerk if he could buy an item on display. The clerk retrieved it for him. Grissom searched through the craft aisle and found some white fabric paint, fabric glue, reflective ribbon and a decorative patch. When he paid for his things, he noticed there were only a few more minutes until he had to return to the department store. He hoped that he could find the rest of what he needed on his way to meet Sara.

When he found the last item, he asked for a large bag, so that he could hide all of his purchases in one bag. He then went to find Sara. She was finishing up in the clothing department. She had a few surprises of her own.

"Gil, would you like to go out for dinner tonight? Someplace special perhaps?"

"I would love too! What did you have in mind?" he asked.

Sara smiled, "Surprise me! I bought a dressy outfit, just in case."

"I know just the restaurant." Sara still needed some more casual clothes, so Gil bravely waited for her in a chair outside the fitting room.

Their last stop was at a grocery store. While Grissom shopped for food, Sara searched the health and beauty aisles for a few more things. A brief trip to the pharmacy, and she was ready to head home. It was odd how quickly she adjusted to thinking of Grissom's house as her home.

It was late afternoon when they arrived back at Grissom's townhouse. Sara's appointment with Dr. Phillips was only an hour away. While Grissom put away the groceries and cleaned up their breakfast items, Sara ran upstairs to take a shower and change into something more casual. She was eager to be out of her CSI uniform.

Dr. Phillips was right on schedule. Grissom once again moved upstairs to allow them privacy. He called for dinner reservations, and then went to work on his surprise for Sara. He pulled out the tiny straight bottomed black vest that he had found at the department store. He carefully glued the patch on the left front shoulder of the vest. He borrowed the lid from one of the shoeboxes from Sara's new shoes and fitted it inside the vest, flat side to the back. He glued the ribbon in a straight line across the back of the vest; he then opened the white fabric paint, and began writing in block letters above the line. When he was finished, he hid everything in a back corner of the closet so that it could dry. He'd have to do the rest later. He picked out a suit, shirt, and tie to wear for dinner. After a quick shower, he shaved, combed back his short curly hair, and put on his clothes. The hour of counseling seemed to be running over. He walked down the stairs to remind Sara of their plans.

Sara had made progress in her counseling. Her decision the previous night to be totally honest with herself and with Dr. Phillips helped her to face the reality of her pain filled childhood. She had a long way to go, but she felt better about herself and her life than ever before. When she thought about it she realized that she had been near the edge of collapse for a long time. Her quick temper and frequent anti-social behaviors had been ruining her life for as many years as she could remember. She and Dr. Phillips were arranging for another appointment, when Sara noticed Dr. Phillip's eyes open wide as she looked towards the stairway. Sara turned and saw Grissom descend the last few stairs. He looked delicious. He wore a dark gray suit, with a black shirt and tie.

"Sorry to interrupt," Grissom said, "Sara, we have to leave in about an hour. I thought you'd want time to change." Sara walked over to him and smiled. She touched his smooth shaven cheek. She had loved his beard, but seeing his entire face was even better. She wove her fingers into his still damp hair and pulled him into a passionate kiss.

"Hmmm… I wondered what that would feel like without the beard," she explained, "Nice." She left him standing in shock and ran upstairs to transform herself for him. Dr. Phillips watched the exchange with a smile. Close friends? Sara had been modest in her evaluation of her relationship with Grissom. No wonder he had called personally.

"Dr. Grissom, Sara has made wonderful progress. I can't divulge anything specific, but I think she will be able to return to work sooner than expected," Dr. Phillips reported.

"Thank you so much for all of your help," Grissom said, "I didn't know how to help her on my own."

"From what I've seen and heard, you've helped her a lot, Dr. Grissom. She's lucky to have you in her life." Grissom blushed at the compliment. He held out his hand to shake Dr. Phillips.

"Dr. Phillips, thank you again. Will we be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Yes, I would like to have one more session before she returns to San Francisco." Dr. Phillips left, and Grissom sat on the couch to wait for Sara.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38:**

It was Grissom's turn to be amazed. Sara walked down the stairs in a dark sage green spaghetti strap dress. The color enhanced the rich brown of her hair and eyes. Lowcut and formfitting, it emphasized the curves of her slender frame. Her hair had been left loose; bouncing in waves around her shoulders. Her make-up gave a soft glow to her skin and eyes.

"You look amazing!" he greeted her with a kiss.

They drove down to the strip. Grissom parked in the MGM Grand garage, and they took the elevator down to the shops on the lower level. There was a jewelry store near the entrance to the hotel complex. The jewelry was custom designed by the owner of the store, making each piece unique. Sara was fascinated by the unusual shapes and stones.

"Which necklace would you like?" Grissom asked her.

Sara looked at him, surprise in her eyes, "Gil, these are far too expensive!"

"Which do you like best?" he asked again. Sara couldn't believe he would really buy one, but she showed him a golden dragonfly, its paired wings sparkled with a dusting of tiny diamonds. He paid for the necklace and helped her fasten it around her neck.

"There," he said smiling, "now we're ready to go to dinner." They walked back to his car, and drove to an elegant off strip restaurant.

At dinner they talked about Gil's upcoming courses. Sara suggested that he use lots of examples and stories to deliver the information to his students. She didn't want to discourage him, but sometimes he became too technical about his subject – not everyone loved scientific precision as much as they did. She told him what she found most interesting about his teaching in San Francisco. Silently, she hoped his students would appreciate her input in his planning.

Talking about the University brought back many childhood memories for Grissom. He shared stories of some of the places he had explored on campus and some of the trouble that he had found to get into, particularly in the science labs. Sara laughed and smiled, enjoying the lights dancing from Gil's eyes as he spoke. Gil wasn't sure when it had happened, but he noticed that the tension and fear had left her face.

Sara observed Gil's eyes wandering down below her face as they talked. She cleared her throat to draw his attention back to her eyes.

"Gil, they say it's impolite to stare…"

"Oh? I was looking at your necklace." Sara raised her eyebrows questioning his answer.

He continued, "The Dragonfly belongs to the order of insects known as the Odonata. They are some of the most ancient insects on the planet, their thin, elongated body and paired wings make them one of the most attractive as well. I was thinking how appropriate it was for you to have chosen this particular necklace. Not only is it a strikingly beautiful and slender creature," he paused to nod in her direction, "but dragonflies feed on mosquitoes and flies, helping control the populations of harmful insects. You thrive on solving mysteries, finding the evidence to bring harmful humans to justice. So, I was contemplating your necklace." He finished with a mischievous grin. She returned his smile, still not completely believing his scholarly explanation.

"Is that all?" she questioned.

"Well, dragonflies spend most of their lives as nymphs, living underwater, breathing through gills located in their abdomens…" he answered suggestively. Sara laughed at his odd comment.

After dinner, they moved to the restaurant's lounge and dance floor. Sara couldn't wait to caress the smooth skin of his now beardless face. They moved eagerly into an intimate embrace, their faces nestled together. Gil moved is right hand to her lower back, holding her close against him. His left hand explored her upper back, his finger tips toyed with her bare skin. His lips teased her neck, his warm breath sending shivers of pleasure down her body.

Sara whispered, "Gil, that feels so wonderful, but please don't start something that you're not willing to finish again." Gil hesitated and drew back.

"Sara, are you okay? I don't want to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable." She leaned back into him.

"No it's not that, but I was thinking – maybe we should finish this dance at home…" she whispered in his ear, "in your bedroom."

Grissom's heart skipped a beat. When she had arrived at his doorstep, distressed and confused, she had been so helpless. He had poured all of the love that he could from his heart to hers, silently praying for her healing and recovery. The last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of her vulnerability. Yet he had longed to be with her since the day they met – had it only been seven weeks before?

"Sara," he started. She knew what he was going to say and interrupted him by softly touching her fingers to his lips.

"Gil, you don't have to keep protecting me. I know what I want. You've been a gentleman long enough..."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure. The way you have taken care of me these last few days has proven you're sincere about your feelings. We've both felt it since the moment our eyes first connected. We belong together." Gil kissed her gently and then hugged her tightly to him as they finished the dance in silence. He reached out for her hand as the music ended and they walked to his car.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39:**

Once home, he placed his key in the door, and then turned to Sara.

"It's kind of embarrassing to say, but, um, it's been a very long time," he admitted nervously.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, beneath his suit coat and replied, "You're a handsome successful man, how long could it have been?"

"Not since graduate school…" he said, turning back to the door to unlock it, he didn't see the surprise register on her face.

Once inside any misgivings disappeared. Even before the door was fully closed, he pressed her body into the side wall of the entryway, his mouth hesitantly, and then hungrily seeking hers.

"The door," Sara breathed. He kicked the door closed, heard it latch, and reached to lock the deadbolt. He took off his suit coat and tie and dropped them on the floor. He put one arm around her, exploring the bare skin of her upper back, seeking the catch and zipper on her dress. His other hand sought out her breasts and they continued kissing passionately. She eased her arms around his waist, untucking his shirt, sliding her hands underneath, feeling the warmth of his skin.

"Sara, are you sure?" he spoke breathlessly.

"Gil, if you stop now, your team will have another homicide to investigate!"

Hearing that, he picked her up and carried her to his bedroom, setting her down next to his bed. Gazing deeply into her eyes, he reached around her back, unfastened the clasp, and then the zipper. He kissed her neck softly; his fingers caressed her, easing the straps off her shoulders. His eyes followed the dress as it slipped to the floor revealing her almost naked body. She unbuttoned his shirt, starting at the bottom, and working her way up. Impatient, he took over and soon tossed his shirt to the side. Eager to feel one another, they embraced and kissed. The softness of her skin was enticing, her scent tantalizing. His lips teased hers and then moved down her neck to her shoulder. Her hands explored the muscles of his bare chest, then his abdomen, finally settling on his belt buckle. His pants soon joined her dress on the floor. He pulled back looking for any doubt in her eyes.

"You're sure?" he asked one last time. She caressed his cheek, and glancing up, she found her love reflected in the rich blue of his eyes. She wrapped her arms around him, touching skin on skin. They both trembled with desire.

"Yes," she answered softly. Their mouths joined again. She slipped off her remaining clothes, took his hands in hers. Scooting back from the edge of the bed, she drew him down on top of her.

"Dαmn," he pulled back, "I don't have any…"

"Check the night stand; I bought some at the pharmacy."

"You knew we would…"

"I hoped…"

They gave in to the craving that they had held at bay for so long. Each taking turns exciting the other, caressing and kissing, investigating with the obsessive care that made them both extraordinary CSI's. Sara gasped as their bodies joined for the first time, slowly, gently, building in intensity and power. Impatient, her hands grabbed his hips, her fingernails scratching him as she matched his rhythm. Unable to hold back any longer, waves of pleasure coursed through them both as they satisfied their desires.

"I love you, Sara," Gil whispered into her ear.

Sara smiled, kissing his neck, "I love you too, Gilbert." Overwhelmed by the emotional high, their bodies taxed by the extreme passion, they fell into a deep, refreshing sleep.

Gil woke in the middle of the night. He thought he was dreaming when he saw Sara lying next to him. The twisted sheet partially covered her naked body. He watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed, her breasts catching the faint light of the moon. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to make love to her again. If only she would wake.

"Thank you for bringing Sara into my life," he prayed quietly. His Catholic upbringing was distant, but he still felt there had to be some creative force in control of the universe.

"She's amazing," he continued whispering, "Beautiful, brilliant, patient, compassionate. What am I going to do?"

"I love you, Sara," he said softly as he lay back down to sleep.

Sara woke during his quiet prayer. "Gil, I love you too," she echoed in her mind. She didn't know what she believed. She had seen and experienced too much pain to accept the existence of a loving God. But she too was thankful to whatever force had brought them together. She rolled over and nestled under his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. He drew her body close to his, wrapping his arms around her protectively. She smiled, if there were men such as Gilbert Grissom in the world, who loved and accepted her as scarred as she was, maybe that creative force did love her. She remembered Gil's claim that he could hold her in his arms all night. She hoped he would.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40:**

Sara and Gil woke about mid morning still wrapped in each other's arms. In the darkness, Sara had not seen the purplish discoloration on Gil's chest and arms. In the morning light it was clear.

"Oh, Gil! Did I give you those bruises?"

"Yes, but you didn't know what you were doing. You thought you were defending yourself from your father."

"I'm so sorry," Sara apologized. She started kissing each bruise, 'to make it better'.

"Mmmm…" he replied, "I like how you apologize!" He rolled over so he could return her kisses. The desperate intensity of need had been sated the night before, so they took their time as they tenderly expressed their love for one another. It was almost noon when they finally were ready to get out of bed. Gil put on his boxers and headed downstairs.

"I'll make some coffee," he offered, "Do you want breakfast or lunch?" Sara still lounged in bed, enjoying the feeling of deep belonging and peace.

"Whatever you want is fine with me…" she said sleepily, hugging his pillow. Gil walked downstairs, used the guest bathroom, washed up, and then went to the kitchen to make coffee. He decided to have lunch, pulling out the ingredients for soup and salad. The coffee was brewing when he heard a knock on the door. He walked over to look out the peep hole – Jim Brass. He opened the door.

"Jim, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"We need you to sign off on this investigation because the DA wants to file it today. Can I come in?" Grissom, forgetting that he was only in his shorts, opened the door to let him in. Jim, shocked, looked at Grissom from head to toe.

"What does the other guy look like?" Jim asked.

"What?" asked Grissom, wondering if Jim was making some sort of odd gay accusation.

"You're covered in bruises! I hope you at least did a little damage too."

"Oh, I wasn't in a fight… it's a long story," Grissom didn't explain further. Jim handed Grissom the file and a pen so that he could check the reports and sign off on them. Grissom paged through the file, noting the completed entries from his colleagues. Everything seemed to be in order, so he began signing in the necessary places.

"Gil, that coffee smells wonderful," Sara said as she came down the steps.

Grissom looked up, noticed Jim's jaw had dropped, and his eyes had opened wide. Grissom turned around; Sara was standing by the stairs. She wore his black shirt from the night before. The sleeves were rolled up, and only the bottom buttons were fastened. The top was opened slightly, enough to reveal that she wore nothing underneath. Jim looked from her to Grissom's boxer clad body. His shock turned to anger, as he noticed how young she looked.

"So that's how it is. Grissom, you've been lying to me and taking advantage of the department. And I can't believe you're into that S and M trash."

"Jim, let me explain."

"I'll see you in my office at 10pm tonight; you can say what you have to say then. And plan on working the entire shift, decomp. if I can find one." Brass gestured towards the papers, "Finish signing those so I can leave."

"Jim, it's not what you think."

"Oh, I think it's obvious enough!" Brass took the signed file from Grissom and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him.

Sara turned and ran back up the stairs.

"Sara, wait!" Grissom called running across the room and up the stairs behind her.

Entering the bedroom, he saw Sara lying face down on the bed sobbing. Gil sat down next to her, resting his hand on her back to comfort her. She slid to the side, away from his hand.

"Leave me alone, Gil, I've caused you enough trouble already!"

"Sara, please!" She looked up, and the fury in her eyes stung his heart.

"Stop trying to help me. I'm tired of living in pain!" Sara flung the words at him.

Grissom sat down on his bedroom floor and held his head in his hands. He loved rollercoasters, but this emotional ride was more than he could take.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41:**

Time passed. They both embraced their own misery without moving. Sara's tears and anguish subsided, but neither knew how to ease the tension between them.

"Sara?" Grissom spoke softly, "Sara, I'm sorry if I've caused more pain…" Sara rolled over and propped herself on one elbow.

Her eyes softened as she noticed Gil sitting on the floor, "That's the problem. You haven't caused more pain." Gil looked up at her, confusion written on his face.

She continued, "For the first time in my life I have felt joy. I have felt love. Now when I plummet into the pain, I know what I have missed."

She reached down to help him up, but his floor stiffened joints resisted, and they ended up in a heap. Laughing, the tension broken, she pushed him back down when he tried to move. Since she was straddling his hips, there wasn't much he could do. She pulled his black shirt off over her head.

"Why don't we start this day over?" she suggested seductively. He raised his eyebrows speculatively, then grinned and placed his hands on her waist.

"I _really_ like how you apologize!" he said pleased by her actions. She took his hands in hers, and drew them slowly up her torso to her breasts. She leaned into his hands, tempting him. He slowly pulled his arms back, easing her forward until she was resting on his chest, her arms around his neck. She kissed him softly, rubbing the bare skin of her body against his. She moved up until her breast was over his mouth. He lifted his head, letting his tongue caress it.

"Mmmm…" they both groaned. His pulse began to rise. He lifted her with his arms, using his tongue and lips to tantalize and encourage her, exploring her breasts and abdomen. He drew her back down, kissing her on the lips. She kissed him more deeply, then began to investigate his chest with her lips and tongue. She moved slowly down to his stomach, enhancing his response to her. He lifted his hips, so she could pull down his shorts. She moved up so she could kiss him passionately on the mouth, then sat up shifting so that their bodies joined. She assumed control, teasing him to the edge, then pulling back again. Enticing and exciting him. When he thought he couldn't stand any more, he felt her release, and whispering her name, he allowed himself to do the same.

Peace restored, they lay in each other's arms on the carpeted bedroom floor, talking softly.

"What are you going to say tonight at work?" Sara asked. Gil looked up at the ceiling, thinking.

"I'm not sure yet. Somehow I need to communicate the nature of your first two days here, without violating your privacy." Sara traced lazy circles on his chest as she thought.

"If you have to give him some details about me, then do it. Saving your job, and his respect, is more important than my privacy," she stated confidently.

"You want me to tell him?" he asked.

"Well, you've told me that he is a good man and a good friend. We can hope that he will accept your explanation. Besides, he has already seen me practically naked. How much more privacy can be violated?" Grissom couldn't decide whether to smile or grimace.

"I'd rather not have that image in my mind tonight when I talk with him – and I hope he doesn't either!" Sara, playing indignant, propped herself on her elbow to look into his eyes.

"Is my body so revolting?"

Gil smiled, "When I looked over and saw your naked body, barely covered by my shirt, all I could think about was how sumptuous you looked. I felt myself respond immediately. Then I realized all I had on was my shorts and Jim was standing right next to me. _That_ is the image I don't want in my mind!"

"Ohhh! I see your point," she laughed.

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted their laughter. They sat up and looked at the clock on the nightstand. Dr. Phillips!

"How did it get to be so late?" Grissom asked.

Sara, still feeling playful, said, "Would you like me to remind you?"

Grissom smiled, "You go get ready. I'll phone her and tell her we're running late."

"But both cars are parked out front, and we're inside."

"Would you rather I tell her we're lying naked on the bedroom floor?"

"Another good point. I'll get dressed quickly."

Grissom called Dr. Phillips on her cell phone, and informed her that they had been working on some research and had lost track of time. He asked if she could wait 15 minutes for them. She assured him she would wait and then hung up her phone. Having witnessed their kiss the evening before, she had an idea what type of research they were collaborating on, and why they needed 15 minutes to climb down one flight of stairs.

Sara finished her 5 minute shower and Grissom climbed in for his. They both dressed quickly and headed downstairs.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42:**

The counseling session went well. Sara made additional progress on facing the reality of her childhood, and how it might influence her emotional responses to new situations. While they talked, Grissom worked upstairs on Sara's surprise. He was able to finish the vest, setting it aside to dry before the hour concluded. He wanted to ask Dr. Phillips some questions of his own before she left, so he went down a few minutes early. Dr. Phillips was giving Sara the names of some counselors in San Francisco.

"Sara, Dr. Phillips," he greeted them, "Sara, do you mind if I ask Dr. Phillips a few questions?"

"No, we're finished." She waited for him to continue.

"Um, I mean alone," he clarified.

"Oh! Well, I guess I could wait in the car, we are going to dinner, aren't we, I don't remember eating today, and I'm starving!"

"Yes. I will only be a minute," Grissom said. Sara walked outside.

"What would you like to know, Dr. Grissom?" Dr. Phillips asked.

"How is Sara? I mean, how much emotional strength has she regained?

"Sara's doing well… But I don't think Sara needed to leave for you to ask that. What do you really want to know?

Grissom hesitated, and then started, "I don't know what Sara has told you about us…"

"She has said you are close friends, though I suspect that's not the complete story." She answered.

Grissom nodded, "Um, it was accurate, more or less, until last night."

"And you're wondering if you took advantage of her vulnerability?" Grissom blushed and then nodded.

"Dr. Grissom, you may not be aware of this, but you have quite a reputation among the single professional women in legal and scientific circles in this town. A reputation for being unattainable, that is. Those who have gone out with you say that you seem totally absorbed by your work – that CSI is your mistress."

"I wasn't aware of that, though Catherine Willows makes comments about my lack of social skills. She claims that I am a lonely workaholic."

Dr. Phillips nodded, and then continued, "Have you considered that Sara's situation, her vulnerability, is precisely what has caused _you_ to change?"

"All I know is that she pulls emotions out of me that I didn't even know existed."

"Then consider this, Dr. Grissom, is it possible that Sara has taken advantage of your vulnerability to her?"

"But… what exactly are you getting at?"

"Forgive me for speaking freely, but you and Sara are both brilliant scientifically and yet relatively inept socially. I expect that you connected first intellectually. Would you say that is true?"

"More or less. There was also something more esoteric."

"I imagine so, but _after_ you had established that intellectual connection. She passed through your emotional defenses. I suspect into new territory for you. She was actually in a better position to tempt you, than you were to influence her. Her defenses were still intact."

"What are you saying? That she seduced me? I can't accept that…"

Dr. Phillips smiled, "No, I don't believe either of you manipulated the situation – that's precisely my point. We call it a neurotic fit. Your strengths and your vulnerabilities are a perfect fit for one another. Don't question it, enjoy it. For a private, intellectual man such as yourself, it is rare to find someone that balances you as Sara does. I believe you have genuine rapport with one another."

"Thank you, Sara told me that I shouldn't worry about it, I guess she was right."

"You and Sara are both welcome. I wish you the best of luck in your relationship. And, by the way, this entire week of consultations will be held confidential, for both of you."

Dr. Phillips left. Grissom turned on the outside lights, locked the door, then joined Sara in the car.

"Well?" she asked. Grissom smiled at Sara as he placed the key in the ignition, started the car, and backed out of the driveway.

"You were right," he said.

"About what?"

"I had been a gentleman long enough." He put the car in gear and drove to a casual restaurant for dinner.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43:**

Grissom and Sara shared a relaxing dinner and then returned home. There was only an hour or so left before Grissom had to report to Jim Brass.

"Sara, I'm worried about tonight," Grissom shared.

"About talking with Jim?"

"No, about you being here alone. You seem to be alright as long as I'm here, but when I leave you alone…"

Sara examined her hands thoroughly before responding, "I've been thinking about that too. The only solution seems to be for me to stay awake. Do you have some movies that I could watch? Or I could find something to read on your bookshelves…"

"I have some movies, but the only TV is in the bedroom."

Sara smiled, "Oh, those sorts of movies!"

"No, that's not what…" Grissom blushed, before realizing she was teasing him, "Actually they are mostly scientific documentaries and BBC theater productions. But there may be a classic drama or two there as well. I watch them while I work at my desk."

"I'm sure I can find something."

"There's a rental place down the street if you prefer?"

"No, I'll be fine. What are you going to say to Jim tonight?"

"I'm still not sure. How can I defend myself and have him believe me? He saw part of the truth, as far as it went, when he was here."

"If it helps to blame me, you have my permission…" she offered.

"Honestly, Sara, I don't regret anything that has happened between us, but I still struggle with feeling I was somehow wrong."

"Gil," Sara began, hesitated, and then continued, "All these years I have carried the emotional pain of my childhood bottled up inside of me. This troubling incident, as horrible as it was, has left me stronger. I don't want to run away anymore, I want to find a way of facing my past. The wounds are opened, but the edges are beginning to mend. You didn't do anything wrong – please, no regrets?"

"Okay," he smiled, "By the way, I have a surprise for you upstairs."

"I don't think there's time…" she replied. He raised an eyebrow and then grinned.

"I'll be back in a minute, you wait here," he told her. Grissom walked up to his room, and retrieved the black vest from the closet where it had been drying. He then pulled the sack with the rest of the surprise from under his desk. He removed all the tags, put the vest on and buttoned it up. He had nothing to wrap it in, so he held it behind his back as he returned to the living room.

Sara smiled when she saw him, "What are you hiding back there?"

"I thought you might need a friend to keep you company when you return to San Francisco – and I'd prefer it to be someone that I don't have to be jealous of. So I found a friend to remind you of me." He finished talking and brought the gift out of hiding.

Sara laughed, "Oh Gil, he's delightful!" She hugged the medium sized teddy bear to her, running her fingers through its curly black hair. She held him out so she could look at him. He wore a miniature CSI vest, with Grissom's name on the shoulder.

"When did you find time to create this?" she asked.

"While you were talking with Dr. Phillips," he said, "You like him?"

"I love him! He's the spitting image of his dad," she laughed again, "Now I won't have to feel all alone tonight." Sara placed the bear comfortably on her hip and leaned over to thank Gil with a kiss. The three of them cuddled on the couch until it was time for Grissom to go to work.

When it was time to leave, Grissom checked to make sure the police file that Collins had faxed was in his briefcase. He kissed Sara goodbye, reassured her that he would call if he could, and then left. On his drive to the lab, he rehearsed his upcoming confrontation with Jim. He couldn't think of any approach but the complete truth.


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44:**

"Hello Dr. Grissom," Judy called from the reception desk, "You're here early. Feeling better I hope?"

"Hello Judy, yes, I am." He continued walking as he returned her greeting. He arrived at Jim's door at 2 minutes until 10pm. Jim motioned for him to come in and sit down. Grissom closed the door before taking a seat in front of Jim's desk. Jim stared across the desk at Grissom, not saying a word for several minutes.

Finally, he broke the silence, "Gil, I've known you for years, or at least I thought I knew you. I thought we trusted one another. But now I discover that I have no idea who this is sitting in front of me. You're a complete stranger."

"Jim, can I explain?" Jim motioned for him to wait. He wanted to finish what he had to say first.

"The man I thought I knew would never have lied to cover up a sordid liaison with a girl half his age. He would never have allowed others to endanger themselves by being in the field alone, while he played doctor. I don't even know what to say about the bruises… How old is she anyway?"

Grissom took a deep breath and then began, "She's 26 – so she's about 6 years older than half my age, and there's nothing sordid about it. Should I begin at the beginning, or with this week?"

"I presume you met her in San Francisco, as Ecklie suggested? So why don't you tell me about this week," Jim stated. He was using the calm voice and piercing stare that he used in the interrogation room.

Grissom reached into his briefcase and pulled out the faxed police report.

"I am sharing this file trusting you to keep the information completely confidential. I wouldn't share it, if I knew any other way to convince you that I'm still basically the same person I've always been."

Grissom handed him the file, and sat back to watch him read. He followed the story through the expressions on Jim's face. When he was finished reading, he set the file back down on his desk.

"How is this relevant?" Jim asked.

"Did you notice the dates?"

"It was about 16 years ago..."

"The girl who survived this tragedy is the woman at my house." Grissom hesitated.

Jim said simply, "The woman wearing only your shirt? I'm listening."

"You were right about us meeting at the forensics academy in San Francisco. She attended my seminar. We also worked together on a case that the SFPD asked me to consult on while I was there."

"She's a CSI?"

"At that time she was working as an assistant coroner; she transferred to CSI shortly after I left. On Tuesday night she was assigned to investigate the scene of a triple murder suicide. The husband had been stabbed repeatedly in the neck and chest by his wife. The wife had then cut her wrists, bleeding to death. They had two little girls who were also killed, but I do not know by whom." Jim looked at the police report as Grissom told his story.

"It sounds like you are describing the same crime scene, except for the girls," Jim commented, "So how did she respond?"

"According to my source in San Francisco, she ran away from the scene. One of her colleagues said that she seemed dazed or in shock. All I know for sure is that she was parked outside my house when I came home on Wednesday morning."

Jim interrupted, "She drove 600 miles in the middle of the night in a state of shock and just happened to end up on your doorstep? Very convenient, I must admit."

Grissom continued, "I don't know how or why she drove to my home – I can't explain that – but when I found her she was very disoriented. I carried her to my couch and let her sleep, but it seemed like she was fighting nightmares. She woke up screaming at one point. I tried to help her, but she lashed out in fear, hitting me in the chest and arms."

"You want me to believe that's how you received those bruises?"

"Yes, it happened more than once that first day and night. When she was finally coherent enough to talk, she agreed to see a counselor. So I arranged for one to meet her at my house. They talked late Wednesday afternoon, and seemed to make some progress, but that night she had another horrible violent nightmare." Grissom looked down again; he knew much of what he had to say would not appear as innocent as it was at the time.

"The only thing that seemed to keep the nightmares away was my holding her while she slept. She talked with the counselor again on Thursday afternoon, and she seemed to be returning to her former self. She didn't have any nightmares on Thursday night."

"From what I observed on Friday afternoon, she probably didn't sleep enough to have any nightmares! Gil, this explains her presence in your home and maybe your absence on Wednesday night, but how do you justify Thursday's night's activities? She's recovering from a major trauma, vulnerable, and you took advantage of that."

Grissom looked at the floor. This was the part that bothered him too. How could he expect Jim to accept it as okay, when he couldn't fully accept it himself?

"Jim, I have to be honest with you, something I should have been from the beginning. I can't say anything to justify my actions to you, because I struggle to justify them to myself. All I can tell you is that I have never felt this way about anyone in my life. I've dated a number of women, and some of them intrigued me, but ever since I first met Sara, I have been acting strangely out of control. This much I do know. There was nothing wrong with how we expressed our feelings for one another. The timing may not have been wise, but I in no way exaggerated my love for her, or used her for my own purposes. Our feelings are clearly mutual."

Jim leaned back in his chair, contemplating this new emotional side to his friend.

"Gil, if you had told me about her from the beginning, I would have been happy for you. The way you've isolated yourself from others all these years has not been healthy. But now? Frankly, I've lost trust in you. You have a right to privacy, you know I respect that, but you haven't shown good judgment here," Jim thought for a moment, before whispering to himself, "What man does when he's falling in love?"

He looked at Grissom with fresh understanding, "She's really that special to you?"

Jim waited for Grissom's nod before asking, "And I imagine she's the reason you want to spend the summer in San Francisco?"

"Yes," Grissom replied.

Jim shook his head, "Who would have thought – Gilbert Grissom in love."

"I guess I may have overreacted," Jim grinned, "But when I saw her standing by the stairs in that shirt... whew… she's closer to half my age than yours, and you'd probably hit me if I told you what crossed my mind. Those bruises threw me. You have that quirky, sometimes gruesome sense of humor, it seemed possible that…Well, I still think you owe the department a night of work."

"I have never had a problem giving the lab a night's work, you know that Jim."

"True. Will she be all right tonight by herself?"

"I think so. She's planning on staying awake until I get home. She's still afraid to sleep, um, without me. I don't know what she'll do when she returns to San Francisco."

Grissom paused, then asked, "Jim, one last thing, Sara doesn't know about this file, or that I know the full story about her past. The coroner sent it to me so I'd know what she was up against. Please, don't say…"

Jim interrupted, "You don't even need to ask. I won't say anything, about any of this. As far as I'm concerned you were helping out a sick friend, okay?"

"Thanks."


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45:**

As 11:00pm rolled around, Catherine Willows, Nick Stokes, and Warrick Brown gathered in the break room for one last cup of coffee before shift began. They had noticed Grissom in Brass's office arguing about something. They didn't think much of it – while they were all friends, Grissom had a way of frustrating each of them on occasion. A few minutes later, Grissom and Brass walked into the break room together.

"Okay, we have some new cases tonight. Catherine, you and Nick have an armed robbery. Store owner was shot and is in surgery. Suspect got away." He handed them the case file and they stepped out into the hallway to review the file.

"Grissom, you and Warrick have a dead body near Lake Mead – it may be a body dump. The park rangers can take you to the site."

"Decomp! What did I do to deserve this?" asked Warrick, "Grissom, you should watch who you tick off!" Grissom took the file.

"Warrick, I need to change and grab my gear, I'll meet you in the parking lot."

"Okay, I'll check the file and see if we need anything special."

"Thanks."

Grissom walked past Nick and Catherine on his way to the locker room. Catherine looked up.

"Nick, I'll be back in a minute, I need to talk with Grissom about the Sullivan trial, I'm not sure he's heard that they've started."

"Okay, I'll get our gear and meet you outside." Catherine followed Grissom to the locker room. By the time she arrived, Grissom was in the process of pulling a long sleeved collared t-shirt over his head. The scratch marks on his back were clearly visible. Catherine grinned, recognizing the marks.

"What have you been up to?" she asked. Grissom turned, quickly drawing the shirt over his head and pulling it down. Catherine noticed the bruises on his chest and arms before he covered them.

"Nothing," Grissom said.

"Come on, Grissom, you didn't get those types of scratches and bruises doing nothing. Shape, size and depth of discoloration suggest they were made by a strong woman…" Catherine deduced, grinning.

"Catherine, it's not really relevant to work – I've been helping someone get through a rough time."

Catherine grinned, "A rough time? Is that what you call it? I've seen scratches like that before…. Is that why Jim was mad? You've been misbehaving with your girlfriend on company time?"

"Catherine, leave it. It really doesn't pertain to you."

"Okay, I'll let it go for now. By the way, they started seating the jury for the Sullivan case today, so the trial will be starting next week." Grissom pulled out his CSI vest and jacket, and slammed his locker shut.

"Thanks for the information," he said. He walked briskly by Catherine and headed towards the parking lot to meet Warrick.

Warrick drove towards Lake Mead, while Grissom reviewed the police report with him.

"The park ranger, Jeff Parker, was investigating coyote sightings. When he arrived at the location, he noticed a small pack fighting over something. He chased them off, which caused them to drop what appeared to be a mutilated human arm. Searching the surrounding area, he found a dead body, indeterminate age and gender, stashed under a pile of brush and rocks. At that point he secured the scene and called for LVPD to investigate."

Warrick commented, "Well, if the coyotes were still interested, at least it's not decomp."

"But we may have to share our findings with the pack," Grissom quipped.

Warrick glanced over at Grissom, and then drove on in silence.

Thirty minutes later, Warrick asked, "Does that report say where we are meeting the ranger?"

"It says to go to the Echo Bay Ranger station; they'll guide us from there."

"This could be a long shift…" Warrick complained.

They arrived at the ranger station a little after midnight, only to find that the actual scene was another 20 to 30 minutes away. They would need to take the ranger's boat to the isolated region on the other side of the bay. Realizing he was going to be out of range for his cell phone for the rest of the night, Grissom asked to borrow a phone to call in. While he waited, Warrick took the opportunity to question Ranger Parker about the discovery of the body.

"Brass."

"Jim, we're at the ranger station, but it looks like we'll be out of touch until morning. The body is in an isolated area about 20-30 minutes further into the park. How long do we have before a coroner will be here to examine the body?"

"You might have until morning; Robbins is working alone tonight, David will be in first thing in the morning."

"Okay, we'll expect him in the morning then."

"Gil, you and Warrick be careful out there." Grissom disconnected the phone, but kept it in his hand. He quickly dialed his home phone.

"Hello?" Sara answered.

"Hi, honey, it's Gil. Warrick and I are out at Lake Mead. It looks like it's going to be a long night, and I won't be able to call again until morning. How are you doing?"

"Bert and I are doing fine. We miss you though."

"Bert?"

"You're Gil, so my bear is Bert…He's your softer, more cuddly side." he could hear the smile in her voice.

"I didn't know I had one," he admitted.

"Trust me, you do," her voice was soft, warm, "Don't worry; I'm wide awake. I should be okay until morning. I found a series of videos on the use of entomology in forensics. They're interviewing this handsome young PhD…. I may watch them all night."

"You're sure they won't put you to sleep?"

"No, I'm learning a lot, besides, if I get tired I'll just imagine I'm waiting offstage for you to finish. Anticipation will keep me awake. You sure were skinny back then!"

"It wasn't that many years ago, are you saying I'm out of shape?"

"No, I think your shape is _fine_!" she laughed, then turned serious, "I hope this night passes quickly, I miss being with you."

"I wish I were there with you too. I'll call as soon as I can. Stay awake, okay?"

"I will. I love you."

"I love you too." Grissom hung up. Warrick was still talking with the ranger, though he also seemed to be watching his boss. He was curious who made Grissom's eyes smile, it certainly wasn't Jim Brass – he'd never seen Grissom's face so animated. Grissom transformed like a chameleon while walking across the room. When he arrived, he was all business.

"Are we ready to go?" Grissom asked. Warrick nodded, and they returned to the SUV grab their kits, and as much other equipment as they could carry. The crime scene was near a secluded cove on the east side of the bay, a 20-30 minute boat ride away.


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46:**

Under any other circumstances, the boat ride would have been inspiring. The clear night revealed the stars as only a remote desert sky can do. The breeze caused by the motion of the boat was brisk and refreshing. The sight of the lake, the hills rising from the far shore muted by darkness, was almost mystical. Grissom's colleagues were good company, but he knew someone he would have preferred at his side. He decided he should focus on business, before his mind wandered too far in that direction.

"So, were you the one who found the body?" he asked Parker.

"Yes, I bagged the arm to preserve it – it's on ice at the ranger station – then I taped off the region around the body. We have satellite phones, but the reception is still iffy out here. I had to leave the body in order to call for back up."

"We've read your initial report, what more can you tell us?"

"Not much. The arm was pretty well shredded. There were no identifying marks or jewelry. The body itself was stashed in a small indent in the hillside and then covered with brush and large rocks. There is area of dirt at the scene that is discolored – probably blood."

"Anyone taken a boat out to that region recently?" asked Warrick.

"It's hard to say. There are quite of few places to rent boats, and people can bring in their own as well. No one really specifies where they are going on the lake. We haven't issued any camping permits for the area though."

They arrived at the far shore, and the ranger eased the craft partially onto the bank. He secured it to the beach, and then jumped out. Grissom and Warrick grabbed their gear and followed the ranger away from the shore and up the hill. Their path was lit by the beam of their flashlights. The coyotes yelped and called to one another. They were still nearby.

After about a five minute walk, they arrived at the scene. Warrick set-up the remote, battery powered lights that they had brought and faced them towards the primary scene. Grissom noted that the soil was hard and compacted, not good for finding footprints, but he examined the ground carefully nonetheless. They took dozens of pictures to establish the scene prior to processing it. They used what equipment they had on hand to look for footprints, but none were discernable.

They opened a tarp on the ground and began to slowly and carefully uncover the body, branch by branch, rock by rock, noting each location through drawings and photographs. They checked each item for fingerprints and other evidence before moving on to the next. They carefully collected a few partial fingerprint and hand prints. They swabbed the rocks with blood and marked the samples, then bagged them. They found red fibers caught on the thorns of the Desert Willow branches.

Occasionally, they would look up into the reflective circles of the watchful eyes of the coyotes.

"Grissom, don't those coyotes bother you?" asked Warrick, a bit unnerved by their audience.

Grissom shrugged, "No, they're curious about what we are doing and if it threatens them in any way. They are more afraid of us than we are of them."

"You're sure they're not looking for a late night snack?"

"They probably are, but we're too big for them, except as a pack."

"Great. I see at least twelve eyes out there…" Warrick returned to helping Grissom the tedious process of clearing the body.

Light was filtering across the eastern horizon as they finished uncovering the body. "We'll be ready for the coroner soon," Grissom announced. He looked around for Ranger Parker, who had been patrolling the perimeter while they worked. Finding him, Grissom walked over to talk.

"Parker, Warrick and I will be through processing the body soon, so we'll need the coroner. Could you check to see if he has arrived, and bring him out to the scene?"

Parker said, "I'd be glad to, if the coroner is there, I'll bring him back. It will take me at least an hour round trip."

Grissom returned to the body to continue his inspection. Warrick grabbed his notebook, while Grissom talked through his observations.

"Naked Caucasian male, light brown hair, perhaps upper teens or early 20's, tattoos on his shoulders and upper arms. Various contusions are visible on the arms and torso, though they appear to have been several days old at the time of death. No apparent penetration wounds on front of body, though blood pool formed under head and neck. Left arm is missing from below the elbow. Wound is jagged. Insect activity visible on the face and arm, preliminary analysis indicates time of death from 2 to 4 days. Further study of the insect species will be necessary to narrow the timeframe." He continued his narration as they examined the body for evidence.

An hour later, Parker, another ranger, and a new assistant coroner, David, arrived. Grissom accompanied the coroner to the body while Warrick began dismantling their equipment. They rolled the body over, noting the discoloration on his back, additional insect infestations and the signs of blunt force trauma on his skull.

"Lividity is set and indicates his body has not been moved. That makes this the primary crime scene," Grissom noted. They finished processing the body and bagged it for removal from the scene. While David and Grissom worked, Warrick and the rangers began searching the surrounding area for additional evidence. They found a baseball cap with an unfamiliar logo, blue fibers and blood on a cactus, and a couple of cigarette butts.

When they were finished, they gathered all of their equipment and evidence. Warrick and the new ranger carried the body bag, while Grissom, Parker and David handled the rest of the equipment and evidence. Arriving at the boat, it was apparent that they would not all fit in the small craft for the return trip.

"Warrick, you and…" Grissom started, and then realized that he didn't know the name.

"Ranger Trimble," the new ranger offered.

Grissom began again, "Warrick, you and Ranger Trimble will need to stay with the evidence and equipment. I'll ride with David and our John Doe, back to the morgue. When Parker returns, you follow and begin processing the evidence in the lab."

"Will do, Gris," Warrick said, "Hey, Parker, hurry back, I'm used to the bright lights and noise of the casinos, all this quiet and nature makes me nervous."

They loaded the boat and returned to the ranger station. Grissom and David moved the body into the back of the coroner's van, retrieved the arm from the freezer in the ranger station, and headed off to the city. Parker returned to pick up Warrick, Trimble, and the rest of the equipment and evidence.


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47:**

After they'd been on the road a few minutes, Grissom tried his cell phone.

"There's no signal out here," Grissom said, "David, please stop at the next phone so that I can call in." David nodded, acknowledging the request.

They found a phone at the Mile 25 marker, and Grissom dialed the lab.

"Brass."

"Jim, we're heading back in. David and I should be there in about 45 minutes, Warrick will be about an hour behind us, with the rest of the evidence."

"Gil, I'm glad to hear you're finished out there. I received a call first thing this morning, the Sullivan case has been moved up. They were able to seat a jury late yesterday, so opening statements will begin on Monday. I'll reassign Nick to help Warrick – you need to review the Sullivan evidence and be ready to testify sometime on Monday or Tuesday."

"There are some insects that need to be processed before autopsy. After that, Nick and Warrick should be able to handle the case. Does that mean I'm off tonight and Sunday night?" Grissom asked.

"Yes," Jim said, "I didn't think you'd mind, under the circumstances." Grissom could hear the teasing in his friend's voice, "As long as you keep your mind on work long enough to be prepared on Monday."

"Don't worry, I'll be ready. The Sullivan case was almost a year ago, but I remember it clearly – the brutal abuse and death of a toddler at the hands of her parents…. It's an image I would like to forget."

"I'll see you when you get here." Grissom disconnected the call, and then dialed home.

"Hello?" Sara answered sleepily.

"Hi Sara, I'm on my way back to Vegas, how are you holding up?"

"I'm tired, but okay. I've dozed off a few times, but no nightmares so far."

"I'm glad to hear that. I have to collect some insects from the body, and then I'll be coming home – maybe two or three hours more… And I have some good news."

"What's that?"

"I have the rest of the weekend off to prepare for a trial on Monday. Maybe I could drive to San Francisco with you on Sunday?"

"I'd like that. It would make it a lot easier to face going back if you were with me."

"Great, let's plan on it. I need to get back to work. I love you, Sara."

"I love you too."

The rest of the drive was uneventful. They arrived at the lab and finished preparing the body for autopsy. Nick joined them and helped Grissom collect his samples. Grissom reviewed the process of tracking the life cycle as the insects developed in their protected environments. He left Nick to attend the autopsy. Grissom retrieved his copy of the file for the Sullivan case from his office. He checked the computer records for images and other reports on evidence, copied them all to a CD, and then signed out for the day. He left all of the originals secured at the lab.

When Grissom arrived home, he left his keys and briefcase by the door. There was no sign of Sara, but he expected her to be upstairs either watching TV or asleep. He had been awake over 24 hours and physical exhaustion was stalking him. Sara was asleep with the TV on, clutching Bert in her arms. He gently removed Bert and set him on his desk; he eased Sara forward, removed the extra pillows from behind her back, and then shifted her so she could lie down. He took a quick shower before joining her. She snuggled into his arms in her sleep. He kissed her forehead, intensely aware of the wonderful scent of her hair and skin. Moments later he slept too.

Sara woke and glanced at the clock, 2:30pm. She was lying on her side, with Gil warm against her back, his arm draped protectively around her waist. She covered his hand with hers, and lifted it gently to her lips, then let his hand settle back on her abdomen. He stirred but did not wake. She rolled over to face him. The soft stubble of beard showed a day's worth of growth. His eyes were closed in sleep, but they moved as he dreamed. The scar on his forehead was almost invisible now and the curls of his hair had not been tamed by a comb. She couldn't resist the urge to brush it tenderly with her fingertips. Shifting in his sleep, he pulled her closer to him. She kissed him lightly on the lips and was surprised when he responded to her touch.

"Mmmm…" he sighed, "If I'm not still dreaming, then that's a nice way to be woken." Sara smiled.

"You're still dreaming," she whispered, "A wanton wench has taken you captive, and demands certain favors before you will be released."

Grissom smiled, "Then I have no choice but to give in to her demands?"

"None whatsoever!" Sara affirmed. He opened his eyes so he could see the love sparking from hers.

"Well then, if I must…" he traced her face with his fingers, and then drew her close into a passionate kiss. Sheets, blankets, and clothes became obstacles for the handsome adventurer to overcome as he met the needs of his sensual captor.


	48. Chapter 48

Thank you for reading my first fanfiction story

Thank you for reading my first fanfiction story. I realized today that the reason I was suffering from writer's block was because I blurred the lines between my first story and my second, and I didn't leave enough room to build the storyline.

I have revised the last three chapters and moved them to become the first three chapters of my new story. I have also added a new chapter to the story. More will be following soon – I have roughed out about 8 more chapters already.

I apologize for not responding to your reviews. I appreciate each and every one of them, but my schedule is insane right now, leaving little time for anything more that work and graduate school – and of course writing and obsessing about CSI: GSR. 

Thank you again!!


End file.
